Hi, I’m Dan, welcome to my site. I love photography, it allows us to take a moment out of time and keep it.
Keep those moment close, for they are your history.
The gentle souls wander, in innocence they chew. Look out for those that can not, for they mark the strength of you. Buttercup Goats Sanctury, Kent.
To stand upon the lonely beach, the salty tales of fishermen passed.
Are you on the road to nowhere?
The Oasts of old still proud, a summer breeze awakens.
The well is dry, wishes fail, for water has the power. A reminder still it sits and bears the cross of time.
I sit and watch as nature passes, the clouds, the trees and bumblebees. The birds sweet song of summer toil, smiles at land and trees and soil. A time to think of all you have, life is sweet and cherish that.
To wander through skies of grey, the life released. The trees stand tall and greet, as friends of old repleat.
She waits for moonlights kiss, to bring back life to hearts of stone
The broken mirrors view, to look but not to see.
A seat but not for thee, natures throne but who is worthy.
The Mists of time, flow upon the land and sea. To stand, to watch, to be.
The waters fall, the path revealed. Lindisfarne calls to those that seek
A choir sings, the echoes of distant souls reverb.
They wait, engines quiet, posied to fire and journey on. The metal beasts that carry us to destinations new.
Through life and death it stood the test, til time and winters took their toll.
The pride in youth bares the body. She stands and stares into oblivion.
The cloud and sea, they talk of storms and historys tale . The rocks call the unwary traveller to their ruin.
A beach, so still and quiet. The crunch of heel on stone, the trodden march of ages. A shadow falls upon the rocks, natures path recorded.
To sit upon the sand and wait. The peace of wind that blows through the bones of old.
She sits and drinks, the distorted view through glass and spirit.
The hero looks to sea, a memory of the last act. The payment is always due.
The wanderer reflects upon the sands of time.
The sweeping wall protects the fragile mind. They wait for lifes return.
A busy scene of chatters mumble, a smile, a look, a child.
The concrete grows like cancers threat. Ruinous grey upon the soul.
The name is Guella from Domesday times. The springs do spout from chalken hills. Wells of old gives life to those that fish the seas.
A Choir sung in chilly air, brings cheer to lonely souls. The memory of warmth and peace, slides through thy heart of stone.
Eros, a memory due to Shaftesburys work. Anteros hears the childen play.
A Christmas sky, the London view. The tuneful tone of carols sung, the gleeful cheer of booze and fun. The dusk brings warmth of friends and kins, a happy time soon a new year brings.
To reflect on Christmas past, the happy time does play the minds of childrens dreams.
A smile, a glint, a mind held in loves sweet arms. The time to walk amongst the stone is precious to those that know.
A past reflected, a future set, I view a follys dream.
A ruin crumbles, oblivion calls. The works of man are but a second in millennias scheme.
December chills the morning air. The dragons breth plays amongst the frozen leaves. Follow thy path for time waits for no one.
The water sits upon the steel, cold and hard. Each drop, a life reflected.
To see thyself and laugh
It plays the game of life, naked and alone. To run or hide, the choice of life or death.
To muse, to stare at waters edge. It cools the troubled mind. Reflect upon thy choice my friends for time ticks by.
For I am me, to feel the power of oceans vast. I stand and roar, for I, am me.
A life short lived, but the stone persists. To tell the tale of Rachel.
A tree that was, to reach for the sky or die trying.
People scurry, they hide from grey. The quiet echoes of rain upon the pier.
Make time to stop and see, reflect upon lifes sweet dream.
The morning mists flow across an Autumn scene. With grazing sheep, I share serenities gift.
It sits and waits for lifes return, the faithful warrior, scarred but still the will remains.
We share this world with playful souls that need the love we often fail to give.
The metal clicks and heats the air, it waits. The dragon breath, hides beneath the still.
Freedom is the gift of wing
The shadows wave upon the beach, loves sweet moment blown by winds of change.
The ancient dance of summer rejoice. The pagan warriors fight for natures way.
The sea does touch the stones, and greets them.
The wind, it blows on towers of stone, a refuge for the battered mind.
The sea calls, I feel its draw. The winds of change blow across the desert
Blooms the blue of springs delight. Natures carpet makes glad the troubled heart.
The beauty stand in unlikely places, life clings on.
The tangles mesh of life, may hinder travellers path but needs are quenched and shelter given.
To wander on the lonely beach, thoughts of troubles past, washed away amongst the sands of time.
I sit and greet the sky, the last hug of a friend of old.
I am on guard, my work is never done. Alert, I sit waiting for troubles glare.
A sea of birds, they bicker. The summer winds call, for now the journey starts.
To rest deserved, the long sleep welcome.
Life turned on its head.
A Falcon swoops, it's preys last vision.
A place for Anne
Time it ticks upon the face, breath and do thy hearts demand.
They shelter from the oceans rath, they risk it all to feed hungers pain.
Hey who turned the lights out, its dark in here.