The Regent’s Park, London, 2006
“More than once did Elizabeth, in her ramble within the park, unexpectedly meet Mr. Darcy. She felt all the perverseness of the mischance that should bring him where no one else was brought, and, to prevent its ever happening again, took care to inform him at first that it was a favourite haunt of hers. How it could occur a second time, therefore, was very odd! Yet it did, and even a third. It seemed like wilful ill-nature, or a voluntary penance, for on these occasions it was not merely a few formal inquiries and an awkward pause and then away, but he actually thought it necessary to turn back and walk with her.” — Pride & Prejudice, chapter 33.
I’ve got to get back to the UK. I enjoyed myself so much there – and Scotland too for that matter.
More info on The Regent’s Park here.
Grasses at the estuary, Port Lonsdale.
On the 29th of this month, it will be the first anniversary of the wedding of the manbeast and I. It’s been an interesting year. Foregoing the honeymoon, we opted to use the rest of the cash left over from the wedding to put towards a new house. With a little help from Mrs E (my mum), we were able to purchase the wonderful castle we now live in. We’re still getting used to its quirks but it’s home. It’s ours. And the bank’s.
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Allison and I were busily taking pictures of York Minster (one of the biggest Gothic cathedrals this side of the Swedish Alps) when an older lady approached us. “Here we go,” thought I, thinking she might have had something to say about us and our cameras.
She did, but in a good way. She was an off-duty tourguide!
“Are you visitors?” She asks.
“Yes,” says we, the Australian and American accents giving it away immediately if the cameras and fevered snapping wasn’t already a big enough clue.
“Well, I don’t usually let people in on this but there is an excellent view of the Minster from the third floor window in Marks and Spencer!”
So, obediently, we found our way to Marks and Spencer and went to the third floor, which just happened to be the men’s clothing department. Surrounded by socks and undies, we peeked out of the little window to find an awesome view, just like the lady said.
Sitting stately amongst the rooftops of the township and bathed in warm afternoon light, there was the Minster in all it’s glory.
Last night the manbeast stopped and, while looking over at a few of my photographs, quietly said it was nice to be reminded that one doesn’t need top-notch photographic gear to get a great image. Yeah, that’s a compliment I’ll take. I happen to agree. Some of my favourite shots have been taken on a Pentax ist* DS or the manbeast’s Nikon D70s. Neither are fantastic cameras but they do the job. The above image was taken, if I remember correctly, on Steve’s Nikon D70s. I love this photograph. I love the smog, I love the dirty yellow sunset reflected off the glass, I love the flecks of light on the far-away buildings and the vibrant colours on the bridge. All caught and dealt with beautifully in appalling conditions from within a very dirty pod on the London Eye.
