I am lucky enough to have a poet-photographer as one of my friends.

She told me one day about the macro function on my camera (‘do you have a button with a flower picture next to it…? Yes, that’s it…’)

[No, I really didn’t know, and don’t tend to read instructions.]

More importantly, she encouraged me to take and share less ordinary photographs.

Photographs that capture the extraordinariness of everyday things. With her encouragement, I started taking photographs of the wild flowers that I saw as I walked.  (I love to walk).

Such a simple sentence:

I started taking photographs of the wild flowers that I saw as I walked

The words can’t do justice to what really happened, changing the way that I see things for ever. Because as I walked, and took photos, I learned to:

  • Notice beauty and wonder all around me
  • Find evidence of life and growth in the most unlikely of places
  • Stumble across the tiniest of flowers, previously hidden from my view
  • Bend down, hunker down, lie down in order to notice them properly
  • Pay attention to detail
  • Listen to what the flowers had to say (yes, they do talk)
  • Celebrate colour
  • See patterns
  • Say thank you
  • Wash my eyes in wonder

If I had to try and sum it up, I’d say it was the art of paying attention.

It’s how I want to walk, from here on, through the world.

Drinking in detail, patterns, colour, wonder, thank you.

Eyes washed in wonder.*


The phrase: ‘Eyes washed in wonder’ flows from a prescription for poetry I’ve been taking for the last few years.  It is one of the lines in the Poet’s Prescription by Diana Hendry.