Rainy Day in a British Seaside Town
'How strange it is to be anything at all'.
Neutral Milk Hotel
It's a cold wet Sunday in December. Outside my window I can see rain hammering down - soon to be replaced by sleet then snow - and I have absolutely no intention of going outside. I'm warm blooded, and the idea of getting cold and wet unnecessarily seems a rather pointless exercise. The cold is one thing, but the persistent, ever encroaching dampness is not something I go looking for. These cold wet Sundays are a great time to reflect on the week, and damn I need to reflect.
My head has been in an odd place these past seven days. When in this headspace, picking up my camera is often the last thing I want to do. I do however spend a lot of time making mental notes of locations and possible compositions as I drive around the county for work. A recurring site has been the road that runs out of Pulborough going west. A couple of weeks ago during the floods, I drove past a field with a bridge just about poking over the top of the floodplain. It would have made a great shot had the weather been on my side, but it was a really dull day, so I continued on my way and made one of my mental notes. Yesterday was a wonderfully frosty morning, and whilst rain and cold suck, blow and bite in equal measures, the cold is doable if prepared, just. Armed with camera and warm clothes I took a trip back to this site. The floods had subsided, but I was greeted by a thick frost on the now dead grass stalks, decorated with equally frosty spider's webs. There was also a gentle mist that defused the now fully apparent, but low morning sun. Sights like this make me happy. Instantly the stress of the week dissipates and my mind gets excited for images and experiences. I saw three herons before I had even exhaled my lungs of air, and oh boy, what a beautiful stretch of water. We miss so much in our busy lives, and this gem was no more than a few metres from the road. I only fired off a few shots, but enough to justify the journey and enough to remind me why I love this activity so much...not that I need reminding.
Here's to a better week.