Screw Loose

Nearly didn't make the shot of the screwdrivers in time. The time on my camera was still set an hour ahead , so according to the camera it was Saturday morning - I've changed it to make sure my photo appears on the right day!

More hospital visits today and a last minute lunch meeting meant the photos were relegated to the back seat. I planned to get some after dropping Kim off in town for a hastily arranged lunch meeting with a friend she'd not seen all year. I wandered off to the station car park, intending to catch the last of the sun before the shower clouds blotted out the light.

As I was framing up for a skyscape someone called me. No problem, just a curious onlooker who wanted to know if I could see the passing plane with the lens on my camera. The photo moment was gone.

We ended up in conversation of course, and in the following twenty minutes I'd heard about - and seen - some of his collection of photos of transport going back to the 1980's; his story reminded me of the importance of having a purpose behind the photos. Although I take photos for a living, my speciality is the built environment - I was surprised how quickly that became "work" and how quickly the enthusiasm could wane. Blipfoto is ideal for me because it encourages me to revisit the original inspiration behind my change of "career" in 1999. My experience prior to that was in the building industry [as a Q.S], with photography as a hobby to get me away from work.

Chatting to Gwyn today, he said something similar - photography for him was a stress management tool too. He gets away from the issues of work etc and immerses himself in photographing transport - he restores vintage cars and buses. He has a small collection of them and photographs the fleet at the local depot. "Only three double deckers left here now", he commented as one pulled out of the depot. "They'll be gone before long too".

A fleeting memory came back from over twenty years ago when a double decker hit a low bridge locally, killing some of the passengers on the upper deck. An equally fleeting memory bubbled up as I remembered the last of the steam trains trundling though the village. We kids would gather at the bridge parapet as the train approached, belching steam which engulfed us as it passed underneath. We'd race it to the other side and peer over the wall, getting a face full of smuts and smoke as the train thundered on to Pontypool. These images are powerful in evoking memories from a life that's still held within, in some incredible treasure house of recollections that seem like only yesterday.

Back to "reality" as my day unfolded with another hospital visit, to see the physios get my mother on her feet for the first time in six weeks. Dinner from the local chippy was followed with an evening out for a game of crib and a pint. By the time I returned home at 11pm I knew I didn't have long to come up with something. Nothing worse than trying to be creative to a deadline.

My lightbox demanded attention and soon things sort of fell into place, with about two minutes to spare before midnight. Made it.