Walking along Highland Water I glanced out of the corner of my eye, a marble, carried down stream by seasonal surging and redeposited on the gravel edge of a meander, transports me through time and space to childhood days spent playing along the banks of these woodland brooks. A strange sensation, momentarily it was the 1970's, it was tangible, I had accessed some fragment of memory, every detail was there, sights, sounds, feelings and for a moment I was the child me reaching down to pick up the green marble, information overload jolts me back to the banks of Highland water, feeling curiously disorientated. Weird.Saturday 22 January 2011
Lost my marbles
Walking along Highland Water I glanced out of the corner of my eye, a marble, carried down stream by seasonal surging and redeposited on the gravel edge of a meander, transports me through time and space to childhood days spent playing along the banks of these woodland brooks. A strange sensation, momentarily it was the 1970's, it was tangible, I had accessed some fragment of memory, every detail was there, sights, sounds, feelings and for a moment I was the child me reaching down to pick up the green marble, information overload jolts me back to the banks of Highland water, feeling curiously disorientated. Weird.
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Another well-observed picture. I like the way it appears to be suspended in mid-air above the stones, no doubt aided by the selective depth-of-field.
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