Life Observed

A slow motion sea fog reluctantly climbs over the Isle of Wight.

Aah, good old black and white. How is it that monochrome images are acceptable? Is it a culture thing? Or is it that we apparently revert to black and white vision, if it is dark enough. Perhaps it is something we just accept at a deep level.

Outside the Sailor's Reading Room at Southwold. This local feature was set up to give nautical types something else to do apart from drinking beer. You can't miss it, it's next to The Nelson pub. Inside there were indeed Sailors, reading.

What became of all the Wheelwrights?  Was there ever a Barrelwright? No, I think they were called Coopers. Anyway, who would hand make a barrel these days when you can buy a plastic box from Poundland (for a pound, I assume)... All these lost arts.

Work with the light. Look at the situation and use what you have. Here we are in Winchester around dusk in midwinter. The low cloud sweeps overhead and all is grey. It feels like rain. Here I decided to contrast the statue with the sky and dispensed with colour altogether.

In case you wondered, this is what is at the end of the line..

What sort are you? A Loner? Or one of the crowd? Just wondering, that's all.

One of my childhood memories is watching my Grandfather employed in the risky task of "drawing" the open fire by holding the Halifax Courier across the fireplace while the flames rushed up the chimney. Every now and then the paper would go brown, catch fire and would have to be released in a sort of domestic panic.  Aah. Simple pleasures. I worry for this generation. Will they remember Grandad muttering as he fiddles with the remote control trying to get the automatic gas fire to ignite?

Brrr. The outside temperature gizmo shows it was -3 overnight. That is cold. Thirty miles down the road at Benson it was -7 degrees.  In fact they often record low temperatures at Benson. What are they doing wrong? Do they leave the fridge door open?

It's Friday as last. After a whole week of wagging and barking, surely a tired old dog is allowed an afternoon off?

Here's a gritty grainy black and white picture from the bad old film era. Aah, you had to take a measured approach to photography in those days. I have only thirty six images I can preserve from today's trek. Is this scene worth preserving on film? Well, this midland terrace with its decoration of seagulls was in fact taken in colour on a modern digital camera. The computer treatment has rendered it with that HP3 look, but the original is in colour and quite clean. In fact the original is less than impressive so I thought I would try the grainy monochrome cliche look. This is something I do when I have run out of other ideas. It is in fact the last refuge of a scoundrel.

Here's a mad piece of geology. Folded and squashed like some mad Samurai sword, this mixture of Purbeck marble, chalk and whatever makes a spectacular sight at Stair Hole, near Lulworth Cove. If you are a rockophile or a Dorset local and you are having problems with this image, please note I reversed it horizontally at some point in the past when I scanned the original negative.  I apologise to Cliff.

Ah!  Old whatisname.  He died back in the year 18 something and they put a seat in that there shady bower so we wouldn't forget him.

There are loads of programs on TV that detail the restoration of old cars. You know the plot already: A tired and rusting MG is dragged from a garage, teased into life, repainted and presented to it's delighted owner or sold to a new owner at the end of the program. Many of the boring aspects of the work are glossed over (we always get to see the new paint being applied because it makes a "nice shot"). Generally these programs feature larger than life characters in unlikely situations resulting in disagreement and confrontation. A bit like Eastenders then, but with cars.  If you have ever been near a film crew you will realise that television programs are edited so that any ordinary sequence of events is filled with larger than life characters in situations of disagreement and confrontation. Apparently we won't watch anything else.   Well, here's a restoration project with a nasty scratch , but I think it will polish out....

I think we all agree this iconic image needs no introduction and no explanation. So here, ladies and gentlemen, is Two Figurines and a pair of Rhino. These bric-a-brac were spotted on a dusty window ledge in a place we visited. Doh. I did an introduction and an explanation.

Always go looking in the dark corners if you want to find the unusual picture. This is round the back of the White House. Really...

Isn't it great - all this history we have at our fingertips in poor old battered Britain. Here we have the doorway to the Radnorshire Arms in Presteigne with it's seventeenth century electric light, Victorian carpark and Tudor satellite dish. 1616... Just think how much of mankind's foolishness this building has seen

It is that time of year when the Rotary Club organises a race along the Kennet and Avon canal that finishes in Newbury. This is done for charity and is a fine thing.  Attached to this, there is a May Day event.  Here you will find all manner of diversions and activities. A small village of tents and stalls spring up like mushrooms overnight selling dubious goods to gullible punters and their children. This is the stuff of your average Fun Fair, and we expect it: We are offered cheap tat, scary rides and suspect food spiced with the possibility of being short changed by a quick witted stallholder. Was it ever thus? Yes, I suspect cider befuddled locals have been swindled at the village fair for generations, and that is just as it should be..  As you cans see, it was a vibrant and colourful affair.

Winter:  When a lesser Sun reluctantly dispenses daylight in meager amounts on a need to know basis. The wind is stilled and the trees drip sullenly. This time of persistent low cloud and fog is known as Anticlyclonic Gloom. Enjoy...

I was at home doing my school homework fifty years ago. My parents were out doing the Friday night shopping at the brand new thing in town: A supermarket. I remember them coming home rather shocked and announcing that Kennedy had been shot.