The Glorious 12th

Yeah I know... It would be funnier if it was the 12th of August. Maybe next year.

I've said that before. I think (and I can't find out how to check because I only use the iPhone app) that one of my first blips was September 10th last year. It was a photo I was in love with, not the best photo and taken with a truly terrible camera but nonetheless each time I look at it I feel it, viscerally, in my heart and my soul, as I do all my blips. It was a picture of Hound on the moor at sunset. Blip helps me remember the warmth of the setting sun, the rich amber light dazzling my view, how astonishing the moor looked in Golden Hour and how I vowed to be back next year for a repeat performance.

Well, this is my repeat performance. I'd missed Golden Hour by about 20 minutes and the 12th hole was as high as I could get to try and rescue a shot. (Word of warning. Don't post a dog biscuit down the hole to keep your mutt's attention. I'm denying all knowledge of what he did, and we'll leave that conversation there.)

But my point is this. Blip, to me, is not a daily journal but more of a compilation of moments with which I am in love. This milestone has helped me to reflect on my images and all at once I feel freed from the pressure to blip every day, because those pictures that make the cut are ones that really mean something.

A collection of treasures.