A few more film photos, this time from a sticky, swampy Sunday a couple of weeks ago. I never realised how much I would enjoy the anticipation, the uncertainty, of shooting with film. Thumbing through the most recent set of prints - from four rolls of film and two different cameras - I cycle through the seasons. I love the impermanence of things here, the colours constantly changing. It already seems so long since I took the blossom photos in my previous post, when in reality it was a little over two months ago. Nature reminds us that our surroundings, if nothing else, are changing. That could be why time seems to pass so quickly here.

Minolta X-700 with 45mm lens and UltraMax 400 film.

Spring on film, April - May 2013.

Minolta X-700 with 45mm lens and Kodak UltraMax 400.

Please excuse the grainy photo. Sometimes all you have on you is your phone and desperate to preserve the moment you just have to make do. Sometimes the universe gives you a flipping full-on rainbow like you've never seen before, and you want to believe that it's some sort of magical, cosmic sign, that something up above or floating in the ether knew that it had to make some kind of gesture. I needed that.

Bare feet at dusk, salty shoulders,
Toads in the grass,
Rosebuds,
Too heavy now to reach for the sun,
Drinking deep the thick air.

Sunday. We arrived at Walden at 10am and followed the path to the opposite side, where we shared a stony nook with a kind older gentleman who had been visiting the pond since he was a baby. He and Evan traded stories on the shore while I tested out the waterproof capabilities of my Canon WP-1.

First swim of the year. I would spend every single day of summer in the water, if I could.

I'm happy to admit when I've made a mistake, and I can throw my hands in the air and say with certainty that I made the wrong decision in signing up for summer school. It was with some embarrassment and a heavy heart that I officially dropped the classes almost as soon as they'd started. In the long run I believe it will have been the right decision, but do you ever feel as though you've taken two steps forward, only to take three straight back in the opposite direction? I'm restless, that much is certain. Though I know, and I try to remind myself, that life is generally pretty good, most days it feels like I'm sidestepping from one disappointment to another, with a few mild crises thrown in for a bit of spice. Then I see a stressed-looking woman in a trouser suit, angrily yanking a bouquet of lilies from their bucket of water at the farmers market, salad-to-go tucked under one armpit, a bag of pastries in the other, and I realise that I have time yet to figure it out.

Yesterday Evan and I had a ramble through Franklin Park and managed to find our way to the abandoned bear dens. Designed and opened in 1912, the rusting, dilapidated structures that remain barely hint at their former 'glory'. To someone fascinated by local history, it was both exciting and sobering to walk around inside the cages, remembering that until quite recently they were home to some poor magnificent animals. Regardless of your opinion on zoos, I think we can all agree that the move away from wall-to-wall concrete in favour of an attempt at sculpting natural habitats, is a positive one. The exhibit officially closed in 1954 when it became too expensive to maintain, and though there have been attempts in recent years to clean up the area, any larger plans for regeneration seem to have been shelved.

The Boston Public Library has fantastic photo archives of everything from political demonstrations to circus acts, and it was with great pleasure that I pored over images of the park in its heyday. The black and white pictures above were taken circa 1929. Courtesy of the Boston Public Library, Leslie Jones Collection.

Lately, from my phone...

We tried a few different Goya sodas last week, all of them pretty disappointing except for the grape flavour, which I believe might just become a summer staple. I didn't feel adventurous enough to try the curiously named 'champagne cola' (although it did look rather comfortingly like Irn Bru).//Magnolia reaching towards cloudy skies.//Yesterday's blossom, such a sad sight.//Walking home from work. Tiny moon and plane.//It looks like I used a filter, but all pictures here are SOTC with the exception of resizing square. My neigbour's front garden really is this magical.//Is anyone able to identify these giant coral pink flowers? I desperately wanted to pick one, but my conscience got the better of me.