Why?

The first blog was a dry run, to see what this would look like. Random thoughts running amok I see now. I intend to let loose random thoughts and rants in equal abundance, to replace the private & ragged diary entries and notebooks, I have erratically kept since I was about twenty years old. This time with photographs and links.

I needed to find a way to communicate with people in particular, who I do not see regularly. "Pick up the phone" I hear you say. Well, at the time of day when I feel like talking you won't want to listen. So to the blog.

Tonight I sent around 100 photographs to be printed by Snapfish. I reviewed them, and was struck by the lack of consistency. Some i am proud of and a few which are so, so poor. Here is a good one:

Taken in Lyme Regis, and given a good talking to. The photograph that is - not the seagull.

We went to Lolworth Cove early one evening while in Dorset. If you are not in Dorset it is actually difficult to visit the place, so we were totally vindicated. The minimum parking charge on the car park, which was modelled on a bomb site, was £3.50. A jovial cove ( not related to Lolwurth) saw me gurning at the ticket machine. He gave me his ticket, which had 2 hours left before expiry. As he said, the tide was in and he was off.

Beautiful though the bay is, when the tide is in, there is nothing to do other than look at it. We looked at it. A lot. It looked back at us I think.There were a lot of French tourists there ( and everywhere else we went in Dorset ). Like the one that got away fisherman talk about, I missed a photographic opportunity. Sitting on some slate steps painting pebbles, was a hippy/hairy, bearded gent, sporting a number of rings on every finger and thumb, and sporting a pair of overalls splattered in vivid paint splashes. He seemed to be surrounded by people every time I looked. I suspect that for the price of a handsomely painted pebble I could have taken a likeness of his image. His trousers in particular. They are a stage prop but a vety effective one.

Muttering in tongues, about the unfairness of other people being on the same part of the planet as me when I want to take unique photographs, I espied the tree ~ festooned with buckets and spades, shown above. Unique. I called Sarah. Her chum Fran, had been down to Weymouth a few days earlier ,and told her about a tree with buckets and spades hanging in it. Sigh. I have an idea for a song . Don't tell anyone. Opening line: Gonna' Get Up in the Mornin'"

One more:

Another impression of Charmouth Beach for no reason at all.