Tag Archives: cat

103. Light and Shadow (Juxtaposition 3)


Light and its absence create a powerful striping across any subject. How different we look and sometimes feel in the brightness, as opposed to the dark. We long, don’t we, for the cool of shade when we are hot or blinded by the sun, and conversely, for the warmth and comfort of the sunlight, during dull grey days.

text and photo © Keren Dibbens-Wyatt 2017

38. Schrödinger’s Cat (hope)


We haven’t seen our neighbours to speak to for a while, nor had we seen their ginger tomcat Timmy (fiercer than he sounds) all winter. He is getting on a bit and since he had also neglected to sign our Christmas card, we feared he had passed on. But today, there he was, sitting in the front garden, enjoying the almostness of the February sunshine. The warmth was not quite there in the same way that he seemed too good a sight to be true. For several months, he had been dead in my mind, and here he was bold as kitty brass, staring at me and wondering why I was telling him I was pleased to see him.

Hope is, perhaps sometimes like the cat in Schrödinger’s ironic fictional experiment, neither there and yet there at the same time, on account of ignorance of circumstances. One might picture Herr Schrödinger holding out a plate of tuna and calling the cat out of its box and into being, though he would, perhaps have been using a slightly more Germanic name than “Timmy.”

Photo and text © Keren Dibbens-Wyatt 2017

35. Lunch? (hope)


What you cannot see in this photo is the proximity of a plump pigeon, right in Melody’s eyeline as she looks through her catflap with hope in her green eyes. In such a case, the hope is entirely false, since however large the pigeon, Melly would never manage to lay a claw on it due to her lack of speed, excess of girth and complete inability to go through her door without making a gigantic clatter.   But still the hope is there, poised and undeniable. Sometimes I feel surges of inexplicable optimism too, even though, like my cat, you’d really think I would know better by now.


Photo and text © Keren Dibbens-Wyatt 2017