On the Red

For the first day of winter (in the southern hemisphere) I was out and about surviving in the metropolis, thinking of a first day of winter 'theme' for the blipland. I thought, nah, not going to do a grey, glum and possibly predictable photo, look for something non-winter or not at all was my mantra!

To whit, I found myself at North Williamstown Railway Station (near the Melbourne western suburb of Newport - about a dozen or kilometres from the City). As I waited for a Train to take me to a favourite coffee shop in nearby Williamstown (to sip on a 'blow my head off' caffeine brew whilst attempting the 'excruciating' daily Crossword) a gaggle of schoolkids were also on the platform waiting for the Train. As we come to expect these days, the Train was late, and in the minutes (hours?) between the 'it should have arrived' time and the 'it might arrive if at all' time, I took out the Camera and just looked. However, the conversation that was occuring between these teenagers was so funny - you can imagine the things teenagers talk about or should I say 'shout' about - that I was cracking up in laughter. This in turn made them laugh all the more and me the more further as if we were all in a 'chuckling disco'. Each time I tried to take a photo, I'd be shaking with laugther for absolutely no logical reason. It was really quite absurb but there was the fun. In these outbursts of mirth I pressed the shutter and out of this finger tap came a skewed photo. "Yes", shouts I, "this will do for 1 June!"

I did some post editing (which I tend to eschew most of the time working on the principal 'you see what you take otherwise what's the point') by applying some spot colour (guess what colour?) and attempting with 'determined little care' to 'straighten up' the photo as if I had been drinking too much Bailey's Irish Cream (again).

It's not a grand landscape or a sublime portrait, not particularly interesting really - red Train signals are not a 'stirring subject' to photograph unless I suppose you are one of those 'tragic' Train gunzels that I occassionally see scanning with 'earnest intent' timetables and guffawing, "...the 4:15 is four minutes late ...", with abject lament.

Even though, by the calendar, it's the first day of winter here, there was no reason to be glim (glim? - half way between glum and glam and a 'cousin' to glib). And guess what? It's only 20 days to the solstice and 13 weeks until spring.