Life, photos but not the universe

Nothing is ever lost? Did I say that?

I did didn’t I.

When I was a kid, I lost things all the time.  I was like a sieve through which important possessions dropped – out of sight.  Gloves, books, knickers, school satchels, jewellery, money, shoes even.  You name it.  I developed a bit of an obsession about it over the years but,  apparently, helpless to retain things,  continued to lose them all over the world.

So I have little routines now to help me cling to stuff I may or may not need*, which is why my camera bag is organised to the nth degree.  Still and in spite of this, yesterday I suddenly discovered that my little bag of spare batteries and camera cards, painstakingly collected over the years, wasn’t where it ought to have been!

It is, of course, somewhere.

Not, however, in the house, the car or the garden (unless, in a fit of absentmindedness, to which I am extremely prone these days, I put it somewhere really weird – yes, I’ve tried the oven, the fridge, the rubbish bins, the wet clothes basket and the cat’s bed).  Neither is it by the road in any of the places where I parked the car the other day.  Nor in the local police station.

Oh well.  One of the advantages of getting old is that you just can’t be bothered to indulge in fits of despair and anguish over  a few missing bits of plastic.  I am a bit cross about it but the cards would have needed replacing eventually anyway and two of the batteries were at home waiting to be charged so *shrug* I’ll put them on my birthday list.

When I stopped to take these photos the other day, I was accosted by a local person wondering what I was doing peering through the hedge.  She was anxious about her horses so I explained that I wouldn’t be taking photos of them as they don’t look so pretty with their winter horse blankets on (more like large, muddy, canvas bags with ears and legs than the noble, fiery creature of one’s imaginings).  It occurs to me that now Prince William is engaged to a local girl, the countryside might well be swarming with photographers of a very different kind than me.

Anyway,  clearly I didn’t look much like a reporter, a horse thief or any other sort of dangerous animal so she said no, she didn’t mind me taking a photo of her rather lovely house which looked particularly delectable, framed by a spray of hawthorn berries and lightly clothed in mist.  As it happened, there was a horse in the distance, wearing a red rug but so far away that I don’t think you’d notice it’s there if I didn’t say.  So I won’t : )

a hard place to see a bright blue kingfisher

not so easy to see the heron either

After that I went to the pond along the road and spent a peaceful half hour watching a kingfisher, fishing.  I found him because I heard the splash when he  dived and then knew where to look to see the blue flash as he landed on a tree branch to eat his catch.  Every time he landed, I froze and then when he dived again I crept a few steps nearer (Like playing Grandmother’s footsteps), only as often as not, he flew to a different and more distant perch so I never got close enough for a good shot of him.  Nonetheless it was absorbing and hugely enjoyable, and I did get a shot of a heron though not of the moment when he saw me and did a monumentally difficult looking backflip before flapping wearily off to a different pond.

And then I saw some wool.

Goodnight.  Sleep well.  Don’t forget the hot water bottle and the cosy socks and the woolly hat.  (You don’t wear a woollie hat in bed?  Neither do I but sometimes I’d like to)

*Like an old woman. **

**Oh, I am an old woman.  Right.


November 18, 2010 - Posted by | Uncategorized | , ,


  1. The horse, the heron…. What gorgeous surroundings to have a wander about in.
    I could peer through hedges!
    And what a gracious gal to let the photos happen. Most people are really gracious like that, leastwise those I’ve crossed paths with. But I’m not photographing people–which is probably my saving grace, huh?

    So the future Queen is a local? Is that how it works?
    What a wonderful story it’s making already!
    And what a lovely place to hale from. 🙂

    Can I just tell ya I lose things daily?
    And I find things in the darndest places that I’m sure I didn’t put ’em in.
    *nodding* I blame the fairies. Bring a reading, mess with your stuff….playful little things, I tell ya!

    *Laughing at fairies* I don’t have any Mel, can’t blame anyone except me.
    It’s true, whenever I ask people they’re happy to let me take photos. And I don’t often take photos of people becaue I don’t wan to annoy them and if I ask they’ll stop whatever they were doing or looking like that made me want to take their picture anyway! That’s what I like about landscapes – they stay still and they don’t fuss!!!
    Oh and yes, I think the future Queen lives just up the road from us! I may even have taken pics of her home – they have a lot of pigs – and I’ve certainly taken a lot of photos in her local pub as it’s ours too : )

    Comment by Mel | November 19, 2010 | Reply

  2. I used to find a very curious phenomenon among kids I used to work with, many of whom lost things at least as readily as you and Mel appear to. Whenever anything – chiefly clothing – was found, the child who had lost it would disown it and refuse to have it restored, even if it had his/her name on it, as though the state of being lost was final and irreversible.

    That is curious indeed Christopher. Unlike those children, the world of my imagination is full to overflowing with my missing items and I still feel sure they are in some lost property box somewhere just waiting for me to find them. Or that one day someone will say “Oh I’ve had this book for years I found it in the 6B Classroom at school in 1960 and I never found out who it belonged to” or “Oh this ring? I found it in the washroom at work and I’ve always wondered….”
    I think the children have a sound strategy for dealing with loss! Much more restful and much easier to accept it as final and I wish I’d had the sense to adopt it years ago.

    Comment by Christopher | November 19, 2010 | Reply

  3. I love the barbed wire. . . and the story of the kingfisher – such gorgeous birds!!

    hope you’re enjoying Prodigal Summer!!

    I don’t so much lose things (partly because I don’t really go anywhere at the moment) but I have found that I need a shopping list as my brain can’t remember stuff anymore

    altho, actually, now I come to think about it, I have lost two hats recently – my favourite old one and my favourite new one (see how slow my brain is getting!!)



    Loved Prodigal Summer Inukshuk, it was quite beautiful and rich. She really is very good isn’t she.

    It’s always a canal holiday event, the first Kingfisher. And seeing one by the pond was wonderful because I didn’t know they went there.

    I’ve always needed lists The children call my notebook my brain and without it I don’t know why I’m anywhere. Not too much of a problem if I’m just going upstairs but a bit of a pain if I get into town and forget why. And I don’t think it’s old age because I’ve been like that as long as I can remember! Um, not sure how long that is of course.

    Comment by english inukshuk | November 19, 2010 | Reply

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