Just the other day something unexpected happened. Long have I said my writing Muse has been on extended vacation, and there were times I felt she'd upped and left with no intention of returning. For so long I have felt I've just told you about my photos in a near clinical way instead of with my usual flourishes and curlicues, but then, last Friday, I had an unexpected trip to a nearby beach and all that changed in an instant. You see, this was so unexpected I got well and truly caught out, for my camera was at home and for the first time in a long time I was "out and about" without it.
Shock!
Horror!
Blind Panic!
Blind Panic!
What was I to do? The offer was made, it was too good to pass up, and I had to go there and then with no time to return home for my trusty friend, so off I went. It was a glorious day and the opportunity too good to pass up. I was near to tears without my camera, and feeling strangely alien not holding it in my hands ready to snap away, biting at the opporunities to shoot. As we drove along, all I could think was, "oh! look at that!" "that would be a great shot" or "isn't it a shame I don't have my camera" and so on until the unexpected happened {as it always tends to do when you least expect it, or aren't looking for it} I had one of those epiphany moments and suddenly realised I was letting this get in the way of me enjoying the moment. What do they call that? I think it is Mindfulness?
After getting over the initial shock of being camera~less, I found I had stopped looking at everything from a compositional viewpoint and was no longer subconsciously analysing how it would fit in the frame; I became aware that I was engaging with what was right there in front of me for the first time in a long time. It is astonishing how the camera has changed how I look at the world, or not look at it depending on the way you interpret all the time behind the lens. The camera is quite a distraction to actually appreciating what is right there in front of you; you get the shot but you miss the moment and the feeling. I have said this before, the photographer is so focused {groan, bad pun} on capturing the moment that the moment is gone and they have not enjoyed or been part of the emotional experience.
Suddenly, my Muse was right there alongside me, helping me record the beauty of the moment in thoughts and memory! I had not realised, much as I love my photography, how much my reliance on the lens has destroyed my natural sense of recording ~ that is sight transposed into words! I am still reeling from the shock of all this, but it seems, to me, the camera has become to my writing what texting has become to conversation.
So, not a Wordless Wednesday, it isn't even Wednesday as I type, but a Picture~less Prose instead to record my half hour in nature on Friday last ~~~
We puttered along the quiet country lanes; there is very little traffic at this time of year, the world is a very different place compared to the height of summer when the roads are crammed jammed with tourists driving Chelsea Tractors, caravans, walkers and bicyclists. The stone hedges rise high, green covered, with red berried hawthorn bushes cresting the tops as nature decorates with festive bounty in Christmas colours ~~~
The day was clear as crystal, and over the tops of the hedges we could see as far as the hills allowed and we peeked through gateways at meadows and fields rolling away into the distance. On and on we rode, down to the stream that winds lazily across the farm spotted fields and meadows of this corner of the Shire. As we came up the other side, a rocky outcrop dominated the skyline, as a sleeping dragon, clear and sharp guarding the land that lies beneath the sky. Nearby, hardy golfers teed off, ready for a chilly walk in the cold winds that bluster in off the ocean just below the nine hole links ~~~
A tree stood, in the garden of a quaint stone cottage, bedecked with recycled buoys as giant oversized decorations, boldly bright and lots of seaside fun! We gasped and giggled in amazement at the novelty ~~~
On we travelled, and we bounced merrily along the country lanes and down the other side to the now deserted beach; the tide was low and the pale golden sand stretched lazily before us as it gleamed, glittering grains in the glorious sunshine, contrasting against the icy blue and cloudless sky of a perfect late Autumn morning. Ah! the delight of respite from the howling winds and rain that battered just a few days earlier. The sea and sky both the shade of blue that was perfectly painted by that master of paint ~Turner ~ and with barely a ripple breaking the surface the day felt as lazy and languid as the barely existent waves. The ocean view stretched way out yonder to the far and flat horizon, with the Bishops and Clerks offshore islands seeming almost close enough to touch; the Irish ferry chugged along to Pembroke Dock in a sea so calm it belies the storm that lashed against the rugged cliffs just a few short days ago ~~~
Two or three small groups strolled, long shadows casting across the sand as they walked along the water's edge, their dogs speeding hither and thither along the beach and splashing in the salty shallows while away in the distance, towards St Davids Head, a lone gannet flew; suddenly it's wings snatched back, it turned in an instant to dive as it plummeted beneath the surface of the ocean deep to snatch an unsuspecting fish for breakfast ~~~
All too soon we had to return to the village and back to my cottage for mugs of steaming hot tea to warm us up for, despite the beauty of the sun shining on us, the day was seasonably cold but still my heart is full and warm with the memories of a lovely morning, and with grateful thanks for the companionship of my missing Muse ~~~
Until next time ~~~
~~~Deborah xoxo