Everyone sees photos differently. Some simply see a place they know or blots on the landscape like electricity pylons and motorways, whilst others see a sunset or sunrise and the beauty of a single cloud, illuminated in a beautiful colour. The same photo can conjure up myriad memories for myriad people, whilst remaining completely boring and meaningless for myriad others.
Photography has become less of a creative pursuit for me these days, and more of a creative way of capturing experiences. The colours of the sunrise (for it is one which you see here) are pretty in and of themselves, although some may say that it is ruined by the power lines and tarmac. I see the memory, though, pervading through the scene and the image.
To me, the image is imbued with nearly fifteen years of returning home after spending time in Britain. Returning home after being married in Scotland; returning home after wonderful holidays and time with friends and family; returning home after funerals. Even after thirty-three years with a driving license, driving into the sunrise still feels like an adventure, and heading for “the Continent” even more so.
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