exit, escape

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Marching pylons, open skies, super smooth grey single lane tarmac of the kind I adventured along on my Raleigh Grifter as a child. The flatness just outside Cottingham reminds me of where I grew up in Lincolnshire. On Friday evening, we (D and I) were there on a mission.

One: to take pictures. I hadn't taken any photos all week and that is not a good thing really. It is bad because I have a D100 that just needs using. It is bad because I won't get any better if I don't keep taking pictures - hundreds and hundreds of them. It is bad, above all, because I love taking pictures. So, based on the fact that we were heading to Cottingham anyway, I decided that we should set out along Park Lane and escape into a nearby bit of countryside. Even though it is dominated by pylons and a huge substation.

Two: to buy curry (because it is open late at night). When I picked D up, J just mentionned that she fancied a curry and that, maybe, if we were heading in that direction and given that she would provide the funds, might we be able to pick up an order? And this is just an excuse to post a picture of Alishaan, the best source of curry within hot food driving distance of home that we know of. And now that the Rajasthan(i) in Toulouse seems to have gone down hill, that Murray might need a new source of superior quality Vindaloo. hi Murray, come for curry sometime

And so at the end of a long day, a long week - one that brought all that could make a man weary of the world - the open skies, verges full of cow parsley and wild grasses, fields of barley,... even the buzzing pylons and all that is beautiful and ugly, made it all seem OK.

What it is to be free.

And that was only Friday evening...

2 Responses to “exit, escape”

  1. Blogger Hiding Pup 

    Wow! a picture of very small me! (from den not pup)

  2. Blogger Curehead 

    nice pictures Andy! I like the first one best! If that is the sun in the background, then it looks more like a floodlight at a stadium than anything else. Well done. Did you use a different metering setting again?

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about me

Weeks and months turn into years and who knows what surprises a new day will bring? As shelves fill with more songs, dust collects, memories accumulate and we pass through the lives of others, sometimes pausing, sometimes pulling up a chair, sometimes moving on. Thinking that tomorrow is going to be like yesterday. What do we know? I just like words and pictures, so why make excuses for collecting those either? But some things will never change, the sad songs will always be the best ones.

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