Tapestry is something that reminds me of the olden days when the lady of the house, usually a lady that knew nothing about housework, because she had her servants, would sit in the light of a candle in the evening and sew her tapestries whilst the men would do whatever they did in the evening. Strange really, it was always the women that were busy with a creative task and the men probably just smoked their pipe and cigarette or were in a gambling den. I found this tapestry, the only tapestry I know, in our local castle, so it seems that they were busy in the evening. I used to knit and crochet before my computer days, but never really got down to tapestry. I would probably have a finger looking like pin cushion if I did.
On a wheelie in my chair in my village I happened to see this artistic effort on a garden wall. It was a simple glass ball reflecting the contents of the garden over the wall. Just seeing it was nothing special, but after taking the photo and enlarging it I realised it was a little work of art. Of course the ladies in the olden days did not have cameras, just mirrors.
Art surrounds us. Nature paints its own pictures and weaves its own tapestries.
Just a plain tree with a background of a stormy sky is a work of art. And the big bird sitting on the branches? That was the surprise I got when I uploaded the photo. No tapestry is perfect and it is the flaws that make them so unique.