It was a nature reserve, with a canal stretching off in a north easterly direction, as far as the eye can see, whilst on the edges barges and their occupants taking a Sunday afternoon moment in the sun.
“The grass, the concrete the shoe, hard not to look at the shoe and think about the worn and torn of my own life,.”
As fortune would have it, it was a weekend entitled ‘distress’, an essential requirement to take the edge off living with demands, and appointments’, and to do's and don't do again, in the end pretty much one of those rare opportunities where solitary, in a sprawling nature reserve, offers thought for goals, and parenthood, and friend’s well-being and family matters, not least of all the romance- where would life be without the romance.
So, here we have it, walking trails and keenly listening for bird calls, and behold ye’ speaks the truth; the variety of tone and pitch is astonishing, on the journey the feeling of dry grass underneath the sole of my engaged feet, coinciding with my human footprint upon the earth on which I walk.
Clearly all very life-affirming and passion poesy, but no less true. Dried twigs, restive spirit, lollipop verbena, lavender, juniper, narrow boat risings, geese in sync, and the shoe; of which I've called 'One shoe, two worlds'.
The shoe was lying there, on the path I walked, by the look of its condition many a' seasons had taken its toll, it looked tired, run through, a seemingly fatigued nature about how many paths it had once trodden. And it was the position of the shoe that caught my attention, in many relevant ways the picture allowing the shoe to give its own narrative on life.
The grass, the concrete the shoe, hard not to look at the shoe and think about the worn and torn of my own life, walking the concrete, with the aim of walking the grass, maybe stuck between the two. And the colour; the colours, for the interlude of my own emotional relationship with this random shoe, the colours fitted perfectly into my understanding of this shoe, and essentially what my mind, and camera, together, does best.
Word to wise: Ask questions about the narrative your pictures say, chances are you’ll be amazed by the response