This may sound a bit weak, but
I’M IN THE HABIT
of taking a camera everywhere I go. For ‘purpose-built’ outings I take my good camera (the one with the improbable zoom) but for just routine visits to town the little pocket Canon. For exercise jog-walks the celephone has a camera—sort of—built in which does the job (kind of). If feeling artistic I take my years-old Olympus ‘cos I think it gives the best colours and stuff.
SO IF I HAVE
habit enough to qualify for the challenge, then carrying a camera everywhere should by itself suit. But wait, it gets worse—I’m also captivated by time and it’s effects. So I’m almost always habitually pondering on the topic of time’s changes. Combine the two with a day out at the beach and we have—
—a foreshore that looks unchanged in millennia. In fact it’s changing all the while, and those cliffs are steadily working their way inland. From week to week, storm to storm, this beach changes. When we were there and got these snaps during the week the beach was all lovely sand—and still we got our best ever haul of garnets. Other times the beach is all shingle and pebbley rocks much like the few in the snap above; you can never pick in advance what you’ll find.
oh yes … the snap below is of a simple farm gate. Why, you might ask, did someone stick a gate right there, on the hedge of nothing and gating nowhere? Simple, really—
—it was a gate between two fields, one of which has been gobbled up by the encroaching tide. In just a year or so such gate as you see above won’t be there either (frankly I blame Al Gore, this was a nice stable coastline until he inconveniently invented Global Warming).
DO I HAVE OTHER HABITS?
Oh yes … I’m hooked on eating (several times a day in fact) and adore good coffee. I also like to seek out unusual aspects of the same-old same-old, as in the shot below; when taking it I had cars and trucks slow right down to see what the demented old goat was doing this time—
—he was listening to the voices of the gods, that’s what, singing in the wires and humming in the very pole itself. (What you can’t see in the snap is the two-foot wide strip of plastic or aluminium/whatever higher up; to keep the blasted possums from going any higher and getting sizzled—it’s one of their habits that the power people have to make allowances for.)