Thursday, March 05, 2015


From a place abroad.
I stumbled on this as it slowly but surely crumbled. I snapped it with the XA2 before it disappeared altogether. That place there, abroad.

This was in an abroad place too. Snuck under a bridge somewhere to inform the natives - whoever they were. They were there somewhere. It was they who built this wall. Rubberised and that.

Wednesday, March 04, 2015

Harrrrrr! and all that sort of thing

How is that for a view to while away your working day. If you have any energy left after pedalling a metre or two of Tweed, feeding the sheeps and cooking the tea. Eh? It's down Lemreway way.

Oh yes, it's where the Viking and his lovely wife work, keep Icelandic sheeps and smile a lot. And why shouldn't they? I took Ms Lucrecia Olivia Flynn Hunter, a fashion / editorial photographer down there to see them. That's the sort of thing I'm known to do. I mean, The Croation Man from Croatia visited there after all.

Ms photographer got distracted though. Wanted to feed the sheeps. Tickle their noses and smile at the Viking. Keith the Viking. Did I not tell you he was a Keith?

This is Keith The Viking with Mr Hunter, Lucrecia Olivia Flynn Hunter's assistant/driver/funder. I would show you a snap of Ms L-O-F-Hunter but she'd probably take a contract out on me, so I won't.

We had a fine time all the same. Many thanks to Viking Keith and Liz.
And William and Gemma too who made us most welcome.

Tuesday, March 03, 2015

There too

This small statured person stumbled upon us whilst we strode up this road. Fair took me by surprise. I neither had the time to sort the exposure or the focus. I'm rather pleased he surprised us like that as I love the image. It actually looks like an abroad place. 

The locals who used to inhabit this place I am sure made an agreement not to grow any taller. The wind would have blown them over, their canals would be too small and they might overbalance in boats. They don't over balance, we saw another of small stature in his boat dancing on the waves, making it all look too easy as the lazy swell came in.

Monday, March 02, 2015

They were there somewhere

There was the evidence, hanging on the door of the whatever it was. Just above the bit below. High up on the back of the edge of the place, an abroad place.

Sunday, March 01, 2015

Him the long distance cycling fella

Not him but him here on this island. Got too near the camera and melted the emulsion. I think. Possibly.
His name is Ian. No, don't ask me, ask his mother!

Saturday, February 28, 2015

Then there was one

Two I suppose with me. Tall type people from another world. Looking and everything. We saw it.

Them there hills were still there when we left that day. Saw them later looming over our resting place. Just as well I had a little camera with me so I could capture that very moment. It's not like that now. The clouds are different, there's probably been a rockfall or three and the air has changed.

There's another photographiser visiting the island up here in the windy cold north. I shall post a link to her work when I have one.

Friday, February 27, 2015

Not one

No one here. Or there I must say seeing I now repose here again. This was an abroad place. With no-one there. Not a soul, or maybe there was a soul but I didn't detect it there. It must have been keeping itself to itself. And I think I would too. There anyway.

We liked it. The concrete construction, the state of steady decline, the mist that whispered around our ears that day.