Ten minutes at the field gate
There is a kind of waiting that feels very much like a walk.
Notes from the path
Things the pictures leave out. The weather, the wrong turning, what broke, what I heard but couldn’t see. Written down afterwards, usually with a cup of tea.
A roll, a card, and the same walk
Trying to settle an old argument by carrying two cameras. It didn’t help.
The tripod has become a bipod
A small mechanical failure, followed by a much lighter bag.
What the hedge kept
A short walk along the ridge, with most of autumn already on the ground.
Birds I couldn’t see
A very full hedgerow, apparently. Not much evidence in the pictures.
Walking back in the dark
The good light was uphill. The sensible turning was behind me.
Starting with the short loop
A notebook small enough to forget about, and a walk I already know.