Admittedly on my lap top. I wonder how they will be seen in the future. No longer kept in an old shoe box under the bed, with the date and who was in them written in pencil on the back, or stuck into the ‘photo album’ you know the one where only the best photos are displayed.
With everything digital and kept in the cloud, what happens when the cloud bursts? Do the pixels dissipate never to return.
Will someone pop into their local archives in say 30 years and say ‘Have you got any pictures of what my town looked like at the turn of the century?
I just like looking through old photos.
This is one of my favourites, not because of the rainbow, or the lamp reflection (taken through a window) that could at a push be taken as a UFO (cue Gerry Anderson UFO music) but because that building no longer exists.
I spend a lot of time just walking along the banks of the river (Great Ouse) during my lunch breaks and on the odd occasion or two a quick evening stroll before I make the mad dash home through the traffic. Always carrying a camera of some sort I get to take a lot of photographs of swans, geese (mainly Canada geese) ducks, the resident cormorants and of course the herons.
I find herons fascinating birds, they are so patient, waiting for the right moment, then quick as a flash they have caught their supper.
Where one Canada goose, the rest follows….. They graze constantly, then one after another they synchronize their dive into the river, swimming across to see if someone sitting on the opposite bank has something for them.
The swans of course just glide up and down the river
My grandmother, and mother would have called today ‘A Soft Day’ It’s been raining on and off all day, more of a drizzle than showers. The wind has died down, the temperature has dropped but it is not cold. The sun is hidden behind the low clouds. If you listen carefully you can hear birds singing. Not the vibrant songs of last week, just the calls to one another. A solitary cat walks into my garden, no longer looking for shade.
As a youngster on holiday in Ireland, we would often experience ‘A Soft Day’ I would spend the day sitting at the front door of my grandparents cottage, on the little step (my grandparents lived in identical cottages’ sometimes reading the latest Enid Blyton book I had purchased in Woolworths in Clonmel (paying the taxes that bumped up the price by 6d) as I had read all the books I had brought with me. Or filling in countless notebooks with short stories about children who climbed over the dry stone walls and met up with Leprechauns, Banshees and Pookas.
It was on days like this I could let my imagination run wild!
Funnily enough, today I have found my self sitting in the shelter of the doorway to my house, as soft rain quietly falls around me, wondering what could be behind the moss covered stone wall – letting my imagination run and jump wildly in the air. Maybe I will go and have a look!