99

As a kid I remember the ‘99’ as an ice cream cone with a chocolate flake in it. A firm called Winstone’s from Rodborough supplied the best you could get in my home town but there was also the choice of Meadowcream, Walls, Mr Whippy and Mr Softee, all cruising around the housing estates, competing for the limited pocket money at our disposal.

 

None of the above has anything to do with today’s image of a stapler, other than the number. I think it’s a cleaning product called ‘Domestos’ which claims to kill 99% of all known germs. That remaining 1% has always concerned me. What if it contains the one germ that has the capability to mutate into an agent for the destruction of life on this planet (and in doing so, beat the human race at its own game). We cannot be complacent – start a campaign today to make disinfectants 100% effective. And ban cheap chocolate flakes.

Perspective

I usually try to correct perspective distortion but it doesn’t always enhance the image. I tried it with this picture of the centre of Uzes but it was not an improvement as it tended to draw the eye away from the flag in the centre. So I left the image alone, a decision that is often quite hard to make.

Lens

Searching for something to shoot this morning I benefited from another frisson of serendipity. The light wasn’t that interesting but some water droplets caught my eye and they seemed like a good way to waste a few minutes of the day. All but one of the dozen or so shots I took ended up in the recycle bin. The survivor only proved its worth once I opened it in Photoshop and could see the image of a distant group of three trees through the watery lens.

Chips

I’m very fond of chips and have the physique to prove it. A particularly good source is the Newlands chippy in Pershore. However not all chips are edible and these colourful examples would certainly take some digesting. I spend a lot of my working life these days watching people play poker. I now understand the game but have no desire to play it. I relish the outdoor life too much to want to spend countless hours in darkened rooms, full of booze, junk food and smoke. I also like to exchange whatever money I possess for something in return, a service, an object, a warm glow perhaps – giving it to another person who has done nothing to earn it does not constitute a worthwhile transaction; gambling is nothing but a non-violent (in general) and consensual form of mugging.

Reflections

Reflecting on reflection shots, this one sprang out on me as I was walking through the streets of a French town earlier this year. Since the bus was on the move at the time, it was a serendipitous mix of luck, lighting and the speed of the Nikon D70.

 

Another reflection that caught me by surprise occurred this morning as I cosied up to a birch tree (as one does). It was only when I reviewed the picture later that I realised that I had a focused image of the camera lens emblazoned across the bark of the tree.

Photographer in Action

A photographer at work (or play) but what’s his subject? Is he a commercial spy, intent on cloning the latest in French haute couture? Or perhaps indulging a voyeuristic moment, a deeply held passion for mannequins. Or, as is more likely, given that it’s my mate, Peter, pursuing his eternal quest for the perfect reflection shot.

The Loneliness of Dawn

The Loneliness of Dawn

Night, dragging its feet, fades to a dismal grey
As melancholy mists drift across the water,
Wispy, insubstantial, masterless,
Entwining the rigging of grimy vessels,
Swaying at anchor in the litter-strewn bay

Gulls, dull, off-white, like the light,
Making no sound, heads buried in feather,
Awaiting a day of squabble and raucousness
Swooping on entrails and ketchup soaked chips
Finding old men to spatter and fright

The air, lifeless, heavy, chill, damp,
Coating the quay in a sweat of dew.
Enshrouding trucks, steamed-up, snoring,
Waiting in line for the darkened ferry
To open its bowels, drop a rusting ramp.

And all is still,
Man and beast,
Flora and fauna,
Only the mist moves
And the lonely earth.