Another Saturday Evening
"Yes, that looks like an engine," Dave was looking satisfied as he peered under the bonnet of the car he was thinking about buying - my car in fact. I nodded sagely in agreement. "It does indeed appear to be an engine." I sometimes wonder why we need mechanics when two bumbling amateurs can race so quickly to such conclusive positions as this. I was just pleased to discover that my little Fiat hadn't spent the last ten years being propelled by an enormous rubber band that I might one day have to rewind with an industrial winch and the aid of a championship winning tug of war team. I think that in those ten years I looked underneath the bonnet no more than half a dozen times. Of course nowadays car engines are just boxes under the bonnet that you plug a computer into if you want to make sure everything is OK. Nobody like us can actually work on them anymore. The fact that everyone teases me and calls me "Captain Slow" because I don't drive everywhere at 150 miles per hour has probably helped to keep the last decade of driving completely trouble free.
All of this irrelevance had found me rethinking my weekend plans. I'd promised myself a Saturday evening alone at Godrevy after a long week at work, and I'd promised Ali that once I'd advanced beyond the need to stand on a clifftop pointing a camera at a lighthouse, I'd reserve the rest of the weekend for spending time with her. Now Sunday would be spent finding temporary insurance for a car I'd not driven in five months, a morning valet service and an afternoon trip to the mechanic for the MOT. Knowing I'd need Ali's help for that I suggested we spend Saturday evening together - although in practice that meant me heading off in one direction with the camera and her in the other with the dog. There would be a rendezvous at the car at dusk, and it was accepted that I would be later than I'd said I would be. I'm afraid that usually happens because once I've arrived here; even the fact that night is drawing in doesn't generally deter me from taking one last image - and then another.
I arrived in this spot at high tide, the advancing waves scattering a group of startled oystercatchers from the rocks in front of me. The sea was doing beautiful things in powder blue tones and I took lots of exposures, trying to catch the water pouring of the rocks in the centre ground. It was my first time back here since lockdown and it felt great to be back on my favourite stomping ground.
I have a week off work to look forward to now, so it's inevitable that I'll be here again very soon. It's really not an easy place to tear yourself away from.
Another Saturday Evening
"Yes, that looks like an engine," Dave was looking satisfied as he peered under the bonnet of the car he was thinking about buying - my car in fact. I nodded sagely in agreement. "It does indeed appear to be an engine." I sometimes wonder why we need mechanics when two bumbling amateurs can race so quickly to such conclusive positions as this. I was just pleased to discover that my little Fiat hadn't spent the last ten years being propelled by an enormous rubber band that I might one day have to rewind with an industrial winch and the aid of a championship winning tug of war team. I think that in those ten years I looked underneath the bonnet no more than half a dozen times. Of course nowadays car engines are just boxes under the bonnet that you plug a computer into if you want to make sure everything is OK. Nobody like us can actually work on them anymore. The fact that everyone teases me and calls me "Captain Slow" because I don't drive everywhere at 150 miles per hour has probably helped to keep the last decade of driving completely trouble free.
All of this irrelevance had found me rethinking my weekend plans. I'd promised myself a Saturday evening alone at Godrevy after a long week at work, and I'd promised Ali that once I'd advanced beyond the need to stand on a clifftop pointing a camera at a lighthouse, I'd reserve the rest of the weekend for spending time with her. Now Sunday would be spent finding temporary insurance for a car I'd not driven in five months, a morning valet service and an afternoon trip to the mechanic for the MOT. Knowing I'd need Ali's help for that I suggested we spend Saturday evening together - although in practice that meant me heading off in one direction with the camera and her in the other with the dog. There would be a rendezvous at the car at dusk, and it was accepted that I would be later than I'd said I would be. I'm afraid that usually happens because once I've arrived here; even the fact that night is drawing in doesn't generally deter me from taking one last image - and then another.
I arrived in this spot at high tide, the advancing waves scattering a group of startled oystercatchers from the rocks in front of me. The sea was doing beautiful things in powder blue tones and I took lots of exposures, trying to catch the water pouring of the rocks in the centre ground. It was my first time back here since lockdown and it felt great to be back on my favourite stomping ground.
I have a week off work to look forward to now, so it's inevitable that I'll be here again very soon. It's really not an easy place to tear yourself away from.