The pub

Beats me how I could spend a magical time such as I enjoyed this early evening wandering among brown and gold, black, mauve, white, green straw and weeds and come home with more than 90 photos, but choose to upload the one of the pub.

The brisk wind turned grasses and the leaves of trees into blurry honey and abstract fabric patterns. Swooping galahs made pink and grey movements against the stillest of blue skies. Drums of rusted metal chains and links challenged me among waving grassheads set against mounds of concrete rail sleepers at the railway station. The setting sun eventually transformed their background of trees so those looked stylised like roughly painted scenery backdrops comprised of scattered green paint and grey sticks for tree trunks. The time I spent on some of these images could not be believed-assessing them, sometimes hesitating before passing on to another, at the best of times repeatedly photographing an image and discovering a world and at the worst truly messing up a great idea ie if a poor photograph is a fair summation of a waste of time, but of course not. As time went by, I increasingly found myself again in this dry place, recovering, becoming peaceful, returning from the heat wave that had disassociated me from my knowledge of my important ownership of me and my purpose.

I need to show you these...

Held still between the tips of my fingers

...and again

...and again

...and here

...and here.

Difficult to understand I had even been lost while I walked and the process of enchantment wrought the effect on me of rehabitation of body and mind. A better educated self. The pigeons fill an alcove in the silo where a hopper feeds grain into trucks and wagons for transport. The birds circled the silo repeatedly when my feet scuffed an unwitting alarm. Fear left me once they startled me emerging out of their cote in a massive cloud. I turned around in circles watching them from below.

The bank of stones slipping away from under my feet as I took confident strides to cross the railway line were treasures of hard grey iron and fiery red. These are images I likely will not forget seeing the sun and the world around me more beautiful with every minute's change of shade and light until there was almost no light except on the horizon. End of day.

Yet I choose the pub.