I’m so conditioned to my lens of somber reflection that if I see the word “zigzag,” a snippet of a poem about grief pops into my mind: “you went zig and I went zag….”
Never to share the same geometric or worldly plane again.
Zigzagging as a complete rupture–permanent separation from a single once-common point and place in the world. No longer a connection at the root, but instead an ever-widening impenetrable vortex away from it.
The wedge of the tornado, not its swirling touchdown point.
Charles Causley’s poetry-fueled rambles around his home town of Launceston included the hardest of hard-edged zigzags set into quarry stone.
But when searching my own images for zigzags, I find they’re not always sharp-edged, and rarely are set in stone.
Early sunset clouds cast a beautiful Icelandic pony in a otherworldly soft ice-gold that makes her appear to glow. A Cedar waxwing’s bright feathers set off soft black triangles and by perching on bare March branches divides the sky into floating triangles of pure blue. Sunrise pauses just long enough to separate itself into a sharply angled fan of fire that reduces a lighthouse to a tiny point. Sunlit leaves reveal a tree’s branching zigs and zags, which may rearrange themselves with as little as the weight of a squirrel.
Zigzags aren’t only sharp edges and set or severed stone.
Not nearly.
Love in the Spaces 
Zig and Zag
Frick and Frack
Who’s on First
Clickety Clack
I suppose
we are all juxtaposed
Otherwise
It would all be
Just flat
First, I don’t know how you do it! You instantly read every post after all these years, and I know for a fact you are a very busy person! I do appreciate it.
And the poetry! I love it. You get right to the heart of everything, with just enough of a wink to make the rough parts not seem quite so bad.
So, I follow a bunch of blogs, but I get email notifications of new posts from a few of them. One of the few is your blog. I can resonate with the “somber reflection” comment, so it seemed a light poem was in order. Always appreciate your wonderful writing.
You’re right, not all zigzags are hard and sharp, and you’ve illustrated that beautifully. That sunset with the tiny lighthouse is spectacular, and I love the raindrops on those leaves. Wishing you the very best as you negotiate your own zigzags 🤗
Many thanks.
That little lighthouse became so important to me once I became (almost always) the only one out there before sunrise to see it.
Lovely pictures Stephanie.
Thank you! I’m really going to try to get back here more often. Why take all these photos if I can’t share them?
They are always stunning Stephanie.
A beautiful series of photos ~ natural light mixed with natural beauty. Stunning work, Stephanie.
Thank you! I’ve been in a long slump and really need to get out there and take pictures and write regularly again! I appreciate you coming by!