© Sam Smith
That afternoon on the very edge of the Tees’ sandbar down at South Gare, the fret was deep and rolling, a diffuser of the gods, soft and thick, almost cuddly. People at ease with each other, and like a comfortable silence, that delicious fog made all the wild theatre of Corus, the usual whoosh and clangour of the steel mill, feel like the soft murmer of friends in a cosy pub. Of course it was very hard to see anything much, but everything that seeped out of the mist, especially the line fishermen and the lone watchful policeman, seem like character actors auditioning for Jabberwocky at a Redcar playhouse.
Putting an occasional photograph by someone else on this site, always feels good to me, so with less than a minute to go, here’s one for a resurrected Guest Wednesday. The first guest photograph in this edition of the site, is fittingly also the first photograph of this camera in some semblance of action. The negatives from that roll await attention in the growing pile for the colour darkroom, and perhaps even for The Artworks in May. Thank you to Sam, the photographer!
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There’s something about the hassie, holding it in your hands and peering out at the world that a digital camera will never be able to replace.