Friday, 22 February 2008
Strange how things sometimes fall into place. Or maybe more accurately how, on occasions, events, senses and surroundings conspire to fit together in a way that seems designed rather than accidental.
This photograph was taken, early one morning last week, from the cliff-top at the edge of my home village.
I was up early to travel fifty miles in the fog and frost for a photographic job. In order to beat the weather, and because I am not hugely familiar with the marshes down towards Beccles I gave myself ample time, and could afford to briefly stop and enjoy the dawn.
Now, getting back into the car I decided I needed a change of music. The particular CD I had in the slot had been spinning away on shuffle for what seemed like weeks, I don't remember what it was, just that I needed a change.
I shoved my hand into the map pocket in the door, and without looking grabbed a home burned compilation, shoved it in and bimbled off into the freezing fog, happily singing along to bits of Led Zeppelin, The Kooks, Frank Sinatra etc.
To cut a long and fairly tedious journey short, I wound my way across country, creeping along Hammer House of Horror country lanes. Finally a bit too lost to keep driving I slid into a gateway to ascertain exactly how long I would be away from home, and whether I would have to eat my own leg........or the very old wine-gums under the seats.
Unfolding the map, and foolishly trying to orientate me with it/it with me, I looked up at the exact moment that an aperture in the freezing candy-floss slid silently open.
Eyes drawn, jaw open, I gawped down a marsh surrounded lane.
Willows like ranks of Grenadiers, their neatly pollarded Bearskins uniformly dropping to the misty limits of my vision, guarding the watery meadows left and right.
I think I said "Oh", just in time for the opening chords of "Cut my Wings", by a grizzled old Hobo called Seasick Steve to burst out of the speakers.
The view suddenly changed in my mind to an imagining of how the rural Southern States , where this music was born, ought to look. Weird, almost an out-of-body experience.
I was kind of staggered, moved to the extent that by the time I got out of the car with the camera to record the moment, the fog/mist/mog?/fist?, mocked me and dropped like a big bag of something heavy. Whump. Gone.
Makes you think.