A dash up the Big Hill last thing before the shops shut at the end of April 2014 got me wondering what exactly I was. The light was wonderfully golden, the sky was grey and brooding and everything looked bright and washed clean after the rain. Somehow I couldn’t quite enjoy it because I’d left my phone at home and I couldn’t take a photo. My mind seemed to be programmed to think of everything in terms of a photo and I couldn’t work out how it happened? I thought I was a writer not a photographer. As I walked home I puzzled over it. Continue reading Fog horns, fairy cobwebs and an identity crisis? – first published 30 April 2014