When I was a child, many, many, years ago, there was no such thing as mobile phones and so no presence in my life of Facebook, Instagram, WhatsApp etc. Whilst there are many recognised problems caused by these, and many other social media sites, there is one thing which I love and have begun to embrace. Photography.
My own experience of photography lies in being taken to the local studio, being perched on a chair or sofa and having my annual ‘send it to the grandparents in their Christmas card’ portrait. Always dreadful, always false, often brought out to embarrass me in front of friends. A new outfit was always purchased for the occasion so on top of cringing dismay was abject discomfort! A particularly dreadful episode, at the age of about eight, saw me in a green tartan kilt with a high necked, ruffled white shirt. I had more in common with the Christmas turkey that year than I care to remember.
However, as we all snap away happily and almost hourly, not only does it do away with the need for the archaic photo shoot, it allows us to see people as they really are and as we often really see them. Put to one side the pouting teenage girls with eyelashes as long as spaghetti and the sullen, angst ridden boys with baseball caps and tracksuit bottoms round their knees. Glimpse instead the relaxed smile, the sideways glance, or even the proper belly laugh that is captured in an unguarded moment. These pictures are not to send in starchy cards with seasonal platitudes but for a parent or loved one to treasure because it is how we see our own children, parents and friends. Look back through your own digital gallery and alongside the staged selfies and full on face to the lens snaps you will find a collection of wonky, relaxed, unassuming and sometimes forgotten moments that will make you smile and feel all warm and snuggly inside.
Another childhood memory of mine is how many garden birds there were. I love my garden but this year, due to a large and time-consuming family project, our nearly tamed garden has been left to its own devices this summer. This has resulted in weeds higher than lilies, thistles with fabulous structure and heads as big as dinner plates, and subsequently a garden full of birds. I have three water stations which I keep clean and full and take great pleasure in watching the starlings as they come together for a collective bath, throwing the water everywhere. The sparrows gather underneath and shower in the overspray. The blackbird is on her second brood and baby blackbirds always make me smile as they always look like they have just woken up. Finches, tits and robins all visit with regularity and the garden is rarely still.
The presence of these feathered friends brings other visitors. The sparrow hawk (recognisable by bright yellow legs) has my garden on her route and occasionally causes a flurry of squawks and a shower of feathers. Whilst upsetting, the hawk herself is beautiful and majestic in flight. She needs to feed her chicks as much as my blackbird does. I hope my ‘soon to be jungle’ of a garden will continue to support all of my feathered visitors for a long time to come.