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Click to enlarge Meet Trichonephila fenestrate - aka as Hairy Golden Orb-web Spider – a female specimen in this instance. Beautiful, isn’t she. Unless you suffer from arachnophobia – making you one of 3.5% to 6.1% of the global population, according to Google. I’m assuming that the word ‘population’ refers to the human and not the spider populace which, judging by the little buggers on my front lawn that jump on you and bite, outnumber people. But as suggested below, many male spiders may well be arachnophobic, for good reason. If you’re a male Trichonephila fenestrate, your relationship with the female species may not be enduring. The objects of your affections have a habit of eating their lovers. Being smaller – as evidenced by the little male, top of picture – doesn’t help and one of the few escapes from its cannibalistic end is autonomisation . (My spell check doesn’t recognise that word either, so let me tell you it means ‘a self-defence mechanism in which an animal or insect or arachnid intentionally sheds or discards one or more of its own body parts—usually an appendage like a leg or tail—to escape a predator's grasp or avoid injury’.) Again I’m indebted to Google. One needs to get it right when dealing with difficult to pronounce (never mind spell) names. A slip of the tongue, or finger, and you (like me) could end up with Trichophilia . Now this term could possibly, at a stretch, be applied to the male of the species given that it is a Hairy Golden Orb spider. But I don’t think the neologist (you look it up this time) who dreamt up trichophilia had arachnids in mind. Because the word means ‘a hair fetishism or a paraphilia involving intense sexual arousal or obsession with human hair, including touching, smelling, or watching it.’ Despite the dangers the female Golden Orb spiders hold for their suitors, the good news is that they’re not prone to biting humans. And, in rare occurrences where this might happen, their venom is not significantly concerning. Just as well because their silk, used to build webs spanning more than a metre in width, is five time stronger than steel and can even trap small birds. Now, if anyone has a remedy to stop the jumping spider bites on my leg from itching, please let me know.

Click to enlarge We are all familiar with the phrase, ‘ But is it art?’ It’s an expression often applied to a painting, sculpture or collection of ‘stuff’ assembled to represent an artist’s interpretation or impression. Most times, it’s uttered when the viewer has no comprehension whatsoever of what the artist intended. It’s amplified when the artist wins an award, acclaim or high recognition for something we don’t understand. And it’s sometimes accompanied by the expression, “You’ve gotta be joking.’ Is photography any different? It depends how you look at it. Photography is frequently defined as painting with light. 'Painting' would suggest the photographer is an artist - someone who creates art. But on the udder hand, Darren, photography is seen by many as accurately capturing reality – a process using a mechanical or, lately, digital device.  A photograph is, as near as damnit, a replication of what the eye saw – give or take a few missing nuances like the third dimension, etc. ChatGPT says ‘photography captures a real moment in space-time coordinates’, whatever that means. It goes further to suggest, ‘Photography becomes art when it moves beyond documentation into interpretation.’ Then, just when photographers felt their work was irrevocably confined to the dungeons of the visual capture of reality, achievable by anyone with a scientific or mathematical brain - nothing more - someone invented a photographic category called, ‘ Creative Art Photography .’ But wait, there's more - there's also ‘ Fine art photography .’ And, again, there's a difference. Suddenly a whole world of imagery has opened up. If you’ve got a few hours to spare, try Googling ‘Creative art photography’ and then clicking ‘Images’ on the Tool bar. Believe me, you will be astonished, as was I. Some of the creativity is simply mind blowing. The concept of capturing reality has been stretched far, far beyond mundane imagination. It’s no longer a matter of ‘An artist creates, while a photographer records reality.’ By the way, this picture is of paint peeling off a gun housing in Simonstown naval base. So, next time you think, ‘But is it art?’ think again.

Click to enlarge Visit any waterhole in the Kruger Park and you’re guaranteed to find a ubiquitous Egyptian goose. Native to Africa and widespread over the continent, the birds have also been introduced to the US and Europe where they’re admired as an ornamental species. Despite a variety of predators including fish eagles, jackals, monitors and crocodiles, Egyptian geese breed prolifically and their numbers are often the cause of their bad reputation. They’re not popular on golf courses where they congregate in masses and their soiling of the greens is cause for complaint. On the Noordhoek Common, in the Western Cape, I once stopped counting when I reached the 100 mark. If you’re the owner of a thatch roofed home your feeling towards the birds is probably far from friendly. They’ve been known to strip thatch from dwellings to use in nest building. These nests, unlike other waterfowl, can be found in trees, on steeples and on buildings. I once observed a clutch of goslings drop like stones, one by one, from a three-story balcony onto a concrete pavement where a protective mother herded them off. That they survived, astounded me. Egyptian geese are also very territorial. At a waterhole one evening, I watched a solitary bird hold a large flock of guinea fowl at. bay. Charging at them, wings flapping, put the fowl into a panic and they retreated time and time again into the brush. After 30 minutes, I left and the guinea fowl were still thirsty. However, one cannot but admire the magnificence and character of the birds. At full stretch, as in this picture, they’re splendid creatures. The black and white of the wings blends beautifully with the browns, orange and greys of the rest of the bird, while the prominent orange eye matches the colour on the back of the neck of a sexually mature bird. It’s no wonder that they are frequently the subject of art and sculpture. While Egyptian geese don’t rank as a favourite of mine, there are times when I change my mind.

Click to enlarge Ever taken a careful look at political party’s emblem or logo? Most of them are obscure or boring. To understand their meaning and symbolism requires an explanation. Fortunately, for the party concerned, our vote isn’t based on the logo – although if we understood its meaning, we might choose a different place to make our cross. What we need is a party which has a dragonfly for its emblem – and there are over 3000 species in the world to choose from. (Dragon flies, not parties, that is.) There’s much to be said about dragonflies – some of it true, some fiction, some fantasy. Even in their nymphal phase, which can last up to five years, they are predatory insects. Sadly, the average lifespan of an adult dragonfly is around five weeks or less. (About the same length of time the average politician’s promise lasts.) Dragonflies are top predators. Their muscle structure means they can fly faster than most other insects – the cheetah of the insect world. What’s more, they can also fly backwards and even upside down.  All of which makes them deadly hunters – ask any fly, midge or mosquito. Lions have a hit rate of about 20% while dragonflies boast a solid 90% plus success rate. But there’s a spiritual side to dragonflies. Some people believe they carry a message from a departed, loved one while for others they offer good fortune, especially if one lands on you. Most importantly, it is said that they symbolise new beginnings and transformation – which is why they would be ideal emblems for the right political party. And fortunately for politicians, the belief that dragonflies will sew your lips together if you tell a lie is a myth. And here’s the best fact about dragonflies: The eat between 30 and 100 mosquitoes a day. That's the equivalent of about 20 KFC meals to the average politician. Share this blog with your friends - and let them take wings.

Click to enlarge From an early age, we’re told to concentrate. Pay attention. Focus. ‘Eat your food – stop daydreaming.’ ‘Hurry up or you’ll be late for school.’ ‘Johnny talks too much in class and disrupts the other children.’ To remedy a child’s attention deficit we brand with an acronym – ADHD – and medicate with Ritalin. And yet, the wondering mind is very often an inquisitive brain moving from one interesting point to another stimulating topic. It’s the essence of creativity and we stifle it with conformity, blinkers and barriers. We’ve all seen stunning pictures of sunsets.  Blues and reds, yellows and oranges blended into the landscape to create a mind-blowing image. As a photographer, there’s much to be done to achieve that winning image. Consult the weather forecast – clouds enhance the outcome. Check the sun set times. Before, during and after – all provide great image opportunities. Get there. Set up. Wait for the right moment. Take the pic. Concentration, attention to detail and focus make for a great pic. I’ve often wondered, however, how many photographers turn around and look at the scene behind them. If they did, they might see a blend of soft purples, violets, pinks, dark blues and greys – making for an equally brilliant pic. I’ve done so a few times, to my pleasant surprise. A trip to the game park is a classic example of see all, miss something. You’re in your vehicle, eyes peeled for THAT animal – the one on top of your ‘to see’ list. We once sat for ages watching an elephant making its way towards us. What we hadn’t seen was the three lions sprawled across the road less than 100 metres ahead. Too often, I’ve been so focused on finding game that I miss the scenery. Hence today’s pic. This shot of Kruger Park scenery, sans animals, is every bit as good as my lion pics. And I might have missed it Special note: By joining the club -just complete the details on this page - you get to choose how you'd like to receive updates, your data is safe and we won't spam you.

Click to enlarge You probably think I’ve got a thing about cows, considering the images in my blogs and my book – "Only one cow". By the way, if you haven’t got a copy of it, contact me and I will rectify the matter. Actually, I do like cows. I find them strange animals. They appear dumb, which they are. Apart from the odd moo, that is. Yet I think they may be far more insightful than we think. Those huge docile eyes probably see more than we do. And they can stand for hours simply ruminating – chewing the cud you may call it. What might they be thinking of? These days, their focus is probably on Foot and Mouth disease and how the humans have stuffed it all up. A crisis, it’s said, that may have brought the Democratic Alliance party to its knees. And what we’ve done, apart from condemning thousands of cloven hoof animals to an early death, is provide devastation for farmers, grief to consumers and a strain on our fragile economy. All because of a cow? Then again, I think they may calmly observe life and simply marvel. Once, driving along the N2, I passed a herd of them, all staring down the road. As I approached a corner, I came upon an accident. Evidently what they’d been starting at while contemplating, no doubt, the strange behaviour of humans. But today’s image pricked my imagination. Were the cows wandering along a path in the dry pan when a sudden flash flood filled it up? Had they determined that the quickest way to the greener grass next to the fence was through the dam? Were they cooling their calves (pun intended), scorched by the hot sand? Or were they merely bonding with a school of catfish? Click to enlarge Only the cows know. PS Please don’t tell them I love a good steak. And here's a bonus pic to prove I don't only like one cow.

Click to enlarge People often say there’s a thin line between one situation and a diametrically opposed position. In today's instance, the thin line separates bravery and insanity. Lean marginally one way or another and you no longer straddle the line. You fall over. You take home fish for supper or you take a very scary swim in the harbour. False Bay is known by mariners as a bay of storms for good reason. One day, the becalmed Fish Hoek at one end to Gordon’s Bay at the other offer family beaches, safe for even toddlers to swing and paddle safely. On another, gale force winds and sheeting rain make sailing, boating, surfing, swimming or fishing treacherous. Unless you're an adrenaline junkie or just plalin crazy. To make things worse, False Bay weather is also unpredictable. On the plus side, high seas and a strong north wester provide excellent opportunities for rough weather images in and around the picturesque Kalk Bay harbour. Local photographers like Stanwell Slater (African Roots Photography on Facebook) and Lee Slabber ( https://leeslabber.com/explore/ ) have spectacular award winning harbour images taken at the peak of a storm. Then again, you get people like the two fishermen in this picture. It wasn't adrenaline flowing through their veins, of that I'm certain. One of my images has the seas breaking over the top of the beacon, rendering the two fishermen invisible behind a cloud of water and spray, only to emerge a few moments later, completely unscathed. It would have been almost impossible to land a fish under those conditions and I could only wonder at the false bravado. Or insanity. Oh, and it was only while working on the image that I saw the seagujll - totally unperturbed b y the weather. Please feel free to comment on this or any other blog. And send the URL (web address) to your friends so they can join in the fun. By completing your details on the Blog and Books page of the website, you ensure regular updates in the medium of your choice. And we don't share your information with anyone.

Click to expand Over many years, I’ve visited Namibia a number of times. Whenever I go, I always find something different to marvel at. It’s a magic country with abundant secrets and a whole horde of exciting attractions for the first time visitor or the seasoned traveller returning for yet another trip. Our escapade last year proved no different in terms of offerings. We travelled in May, known by the locals as the windy month. What was different, however, was that they'd had bountiful rains a few months prior to our visit and it changed the surroundings. I was accustomed to seeing vast landscapes, all desert, leading to the foot of a mountain range. The stark red sands provided a beautiful foreground to the purple mountains. This time, the landscape was covered in waist high, golden grasses waiving in the wind. Once again, the views were spectacular, albeit it nothing like the deserts I remembered. What’s more, it was as if the grasslands amplified the magnificence of the mountains. They drew one’s eye into the landscape to rest, finally, on magnificent mountains, far in the distance. On the outward bound leg of our trip, we drove from Swakopmund to Lüderitz – a journey that winds through the Namib Naukluft Park – rather than the road more travelled via Windhoek and Keetmanshoop. What a pleasure. We spent a night at a spectacular desert guest house called At Kronenhof Lodge near a little town called Betta. Best food, best accommodation and best value for money we experienced throughout the trip. I hope it’s the same next time we go.

Many people think I’m impatient. True, Sometimes I have a short fuse. And when I want something, I want it now. But that’s more impulsive than impatient. In my youth I loved fishing and could sit for hours on the beach, dangling a line in the water. Having a handy beer or rum and coke (not something I drink today) almost made it worthwhile. Returning home empty handed never worried me. The images you see in this post reflect another side of me. One of infinite patience. At the top is the original, taken from a friend’s balcony in Knysna. Their gardener is an excellent worker rather than a craftsman – hence the untidy hedge trim. A strong wind was blowing at the time, lifting the tail of a Cape sugarbird perched on a branch. I took a number of shots and was rewarded with the one you see here. It probably didn’t take an hour and, yes, there was a beer on hand to help me whittle away the time. Next, I processed the image in photoshop. I cropped it, made adjustments to the light and contrast and I ‘sharpened’ the bird to make it stand out in the second image on this page. It might have taken me 30 minutes to get where I wanted to be with the picture. Hardly time for a beer. Then I decided to convert the image into a watercolour picture using photoshop techniques. I do this quite often and, to be honest, you either like the results or don’t. I do. Sherryl doesn’t. The procedure is complicated and I have recorded the steps to assist me in the process. There are over 120 of them. The watercolour version of the bird took around three hours to complete. (I redid the Marico flycatcher that’s in the ‘Water colours by Photoshop’ several times and it took about six hours to finalise.) Is it all worth it? Yes, I believe so. PS: Thanks to my photographic coach Martin Barber for a little help with the water colour version. If you’re curious how this way of seeing unfolds across more images, you can explore the full watercolour gallery here. Did you know you can own this print and transform it into your personal style items at will?

Those who’ve read my brilliant * book, Only one cow , will appreciate this heading is an unsubtle word play on the title of the said book. Actually, this isn’t about my book, although if you haven’t yet bought a copy do so before stocks run out. The cows in the picture represent opportunity. In photography, if you see a picture, take it. You may never see the same scene again. The cows in the image are from a local farm and I often see them grazing in a field alongside the road. But when I hadn’t seen them for a while I feared they’d been sold and cursed myself for not having taken pictures . Too late. Fortunately, the farmer had moved them over the hill and they recently returned. Seeing them, I rushed home to fetch my camera and got the pics I wanted . But isn’t this what life’s all about. If you see an opportunity grab it. You may never have the chance again. Time, and life, doesn’t wait for you. If you come across a beautiful sunset, by the time you’ve rushed home, grabbed your camera and returned to the scene, Old Sol has dipped below the horizon and it’s dark. I used to carry a camera in my car, but that’s no longer practical. I have different lenses for different reasons, so would need to carry more than one. Besides; the chances of having your kit stolen is a huge risk. I could rely on my cell phone but the model I have makes calls and receives messages. Its pictures are not great. That brings me to my final point. Make your opportunities. If you take your camera out and go for a drive – you will find a picture. Again, isn’t that just like life.   Spoiler alert: What follows is a commercial: * I know my book is brilliant coz my wife told me so. If you want a copy visit your local bookstore (they can order one in for you) or go to Amazon and get a paperback or Kindle version. Oh, I still have a few copies if you want a signed version. Just message me at robglenpix@gmail.com and I'll sort you out. Only R250 including courier fees. PS: Have a great 2026. Carpe diem or, better still, make it happen.

Most of us have jumped headfirst into the festive season, relieved that 2025 is winding down. For some, none too soon. For Australians, it’s a period of festivities tinged with great sadness. Our condolences to them. To me, activism underpinned by violence is nothing less than terrorism. And real-life violence is unconscionable, unacceptable, unforgivable and a whole lot of other words that Thesaurus puts out. And worst of all, it is always accompanied by pain – in all its devastating forms. I say 'real-life violence' because on TV its part and parcel of the show. We simply accept it or change the channel if get gets to us. You cannot avoid it. Unless you lived in Malawi in the early seventies where they banned violence in movies. In a barroom brawl, for example, you’d see two antagonists rush up to one-another, fists raised, and then the screen would black out. A bit like load shedding when you don’t have solar panels. Know what I mean. Then the movie would start again with the bad guy lying on the ground and the good guy rubbing his knuckles. But on a happier note, many of us are already on holiday and long may the good feelings last. For a few of us (eg retirees) we’re always on holiday. But hey, we earned it. If youre working over this period - thank you for what you're going for the rest of us. To all of you, I wish you fun and happiness during this time and buckets of health (is that the correct collective noun) for 2026. Have a great one - see you in the new year. Bye.

The Felsenkirche The Felsenkirche (literally translated as the Church on the Rock) was designed and built for the German Evangelical Lutheran congregation of Lüderitz. The cornerstone was laid on 19 November 1911 . It’s open for visitors for an hour each day and the experience is well worth it. Personally, I’m not really one for monuments, museums and churches – but I do like taking photos (as you may have guessed) so the majestic steeple jutting into the Lüderitz skyline was an immediate attraction. We visited the site twice – mainly because it was when we arrived there the first time, that we discovered it was open to the public for an hour every day. (Incidentally, I’ve often photographed churches during the day in South Africa, only to find they’re preserved behind locked gates. So maybe having an ‘open hour’ is something local pastors can consider.) If you know Lüderitz, you also know that it is frequently covered in a blanket of mist. I once camped on Shark Island, off Lüderitz, and didn’t see the sun for about three days. So it was no surprise to find the church shrouded by mist on our return visit. In fact, the mist created a great photographic opportunity. Almost all the pictures I’ve seen show this majestic building in bright light against a clear blue sky. Very handsome indeed. But I prefer the pic I got – a hint of mystery and a suggestion that there might even be a dark history attached to the church. Inside, the church is very much like a church – to a plebeian like yours truly. Until you look at the stained glass windows. They are magnificent. Unfortunately I didn’t have a flash with me, and the pics I took don’t do justice to the magnificent artistry that surrounds you. All in all – well worth the visit. Take it from me.