Tuesday, 17 November 2009


Just occasionally you canter through old photographs that haven't passed muster, and there, lurking in the depths of that mediocre effort, you spot a little magic. Of course, you then pretend that that's what you saw when you pressed down on the shutter all those months ago. Oh yes.

Well here are a few hidden gems (some of mine and some of Shirl's). It doesn't matter about the grain or the pixellation. It's the moment, captured.

IMG_1628a Shirl & Walna Scar Road

IMG_5012a Just Good Friends



......Well, I liked them, anyway!


  1. I some times think i get too obsessed with quality of the image and forget that photos are about the subject and how they make us feel.

  2. I am having problems with readers trying to leave comments but Blogger is not letting me publish them for some obscure reason: One message came through from Brett which says (before it was cut short...)

    Brett says
    I some times think I get too obsessed with quality of the image and
    forget that photos are about the subject and how they make us feel

  3. It seems like you've illustrated what photography is about! When we look at some of the classic images of masters such as Robert Doisneau we don't worry about the blur, or grain, or all usual technical minutiae and intrusions. We enjoy what we see. Your photos are excellent!

  4. The moment is everything irrespective of form or function, captured in the blink of an eye....

  5. Nice one Alan, though I do admire some of the bloggers - Bill Lockhart, Steve Walton and Glyn Davies for example, for their wonderful photographic skills. But that's their life - photography. Others live for 'gear', whilst some, like yourself, have more varied interests (it shows by the size of congregation BTW).
    Now then, where's that crumbly old piccy of us travelling around Scotland in a Standard Vanguard?

  6. The Standard Vanguard! We had the roundy ended one with the straight six engine.

    My Dad's Vanguard used to be on postcards of Old Bracknell High Steet before it got turned into the monstrous new town it is today. I rmemeber him taking the engine out and regrinding something or other by twirling the grindy things in his hands all on our (pretty substantial) kitchen table.

    I also remember careering down a hil towards Chepstow Bridge when the brakes had failed too. Fortunately the lights changed from red to green as we flew across to come to a gentle halt up the hill the other side...

    A wonderful machine!


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