Watching
It seems strange that almost three months have passed since my brother Dave decided to offer himself as a competing focal point on the dunes for this composition at Talacre in North Wales. In one sense so much has happened. The world as we know it has changed to something that almost all of us have never seen before. Who knows how long for, or whether it will be the same again afterwards? In another sense it feels as if almost nothing has been going on. Lockdown is a strange experience with each day much like the next, and even though I continue to work from home, the dividing line between the Monday to Friday routine and the weekends seems almost paper thin. And above all that, everyone keeps telling me how they feel the days are passing so incredibly quickly. Somehow it's already early May, but it feels like I took this photograph yesterday. In fact it was at the beginning of February, when Storm Ciara was the thing that worried us most and Covid-19 was something that most of us knew was coming to these shores, but I wonder how many of us realised quite how destructive it would be and quite what an effect it would have on our daily lives. I didn't.
We'd planned to head home from North Wales via a detour to Porthcawl on the south coast until one of us thought it might be an idea to look at the tide times and realised that there would be little point. And so we headed east towards Merseyside and the M6, stopping at Talacre, a place that none of us had been to before. Well it is a long way from Cornwall. We were only here for an hour, maybe less, and soon lost ourselves in our own little worlds of joy behind our viewfinders. Although Ciara had done her worst it was still very windy, but that never prevents me from trying a long exposure to catch the movement in the dunes and the sea. Dave is often the last to return towards the car, and as I stood on the highest dunes thinking I'd finished and just enjoying the view he called out across the space between us to tell me I was going to include him in my photo. Quite often I'm calling out to him over a similar distance to tell him he's going to be in my photo, so this came as a bit of a surprise. But I'm glad he invited himself into the scene. Check out the photo he took. It's an absolute beauty!
Keep well Flickr friends.
Watching
It seems strange that almost three months have passed since my brother Dave decided to offer himself as a competing focal point on the dunes for this composition at Talacre in North Wales. In one sense so much has happened. The world as we know it has changed to something that almost all of us have never seen before. Who knows how long for, or whether it will be the same again afterwards? In another sense it feels as if almost nothing has been going on. Lockdown is a strange experience with each day much like the next, and even though I continue to work from home, the dividing line between the Monday to Friday routine and the weekends seems almost paper thin. And above all that, everyone keeps telling me how they feel the days are passing so incredibly quickly. Somehow it's already early May, but it feels like I took this photograph yesterday. In fact it was at the beginning of February, when Storm Ciara was the thing that worried us most and Covid-19 was something that most of us knew was coming to these shores, but I wonder how many of us realised quite how destructive it would be and quite what an effect it would have on our daily lives. I didn't.
We'd planned to head home from North Wales via a detour to Porthcawl on the south coast until one of us thought it might be an idea to look at the tide times and realised that there would be little point. And so we headed east towards Merseyside and the M6, stopping at Talacre, a place that none of us had been to before. Well it is a long way from Cornwall. We were only here for an hour, maybe less, and soon lost ourselves in our own little worlds of joy behind our viewfinders. Although Ciara had done her worst it was still very windy, but that never prevents me from trying a long exposure to catch the movement in the dunes and the sea. Dave is often the last to return towards the car, and as I stood on the highest dunes thinking I'd finished and just enjoying the view he called out across the space between us to tell me I was going to include him in my photo. Quite often I'm calling out to him over a similar distance to tell him he's going to be in my photo, so this came as a bit of a surprise. But I'm glad he invited himself into the scene. Check out the photo he took. It's an absolute beauty!
Keep well Flickr friends.