My Photowalk

Two days ago I decided to walk home from walk. On my way I thought to myself I will take some photos, it was a nice evening a little cool but nothing strange. This was the first time I had decided to do a photowalk without any planning. So I set off with my camera in hand.

On my way home I have to walk through the main park in my town. This was one of the reasons I thought of taking photos. It is a reasonably nice park. However, today I was to be stopped by the local constabulary. I was taking photos of some ducks, I then changed lens to do some wide angle shots of the WWII gateway the army marched through. I started to compose my shot when a police officer walked through the gate. So I lowered my camera ready to recompose my shot. He then stopped and started asking me questions.

"Were you taking pictures of us?" he said,

"No" I said "Just taking pictures of the ducks and the gateway"

"Oh" he said

To this his partner walks up and says "You weren't taking pictures to put onto the internet?"

"No, I was taking pictures of the ducks and this gateway. Why?" I said,

"It is just the fact that he has had pictures taken of him before an plastered all over the internet" she said.

They then said "good evening" and walked back to their car. It was quite uneventful really but a very strange thing to happen. Of course it would happen to me on my first impromptu photowalk.

It really amazed me how people react to cameras being around. OK, that police officer had had a bad experience. However, a few minutes later I was taking this picture...









...when a young lad about 16/17ish was walking up the path. He then scooted off the path, not strange I know, but then continued to glare at me for some reason. He looked very annoyed.

Anyway, as I said before not that exciting but interesting the reaction from people. I must be more careful of people around me and what I could potentially be accused of photographing.

Funeral Day

So today is the day of grans funeral. A little bit of a strange day so far, but I think the strangest thing is going into the funeral directors to take photos of the flowers and coffin (closed casket).

The place always feels so quiet and still. Even when you have walked from outside where there are cars and people everywhere, the normal noises of a busy town. The is nothingness inside, complete quiet sometime you wonder whether words will come out when you talk.

Either way it is not the nicest of places to be but I needed to take the photos as my grandfather and father are not here for the funeral. Fortunately she past away when my grandfather went on a break to South Africa. I think it would have been very hard for him of he was here. He has a lot more friends down in Malawi and South Africa, and they all supported him.

The Flowers

Her name plate

Phyllis Gwendolen Bridle, 1926 - 2007

Well I have not blogged obviously since the last time. However, this weekend was a strange one due to my gran dying on Sunday morning. It was not a sudden thing she had Alzheimer's disease and was diagnosed approx. two years ago. It was inevitable that she would go and she had a gradual move down hill. However, over the past six weeks she rapidly disappeared. Realistically she was gone mentally years prior. She did not recognise her son (my father) or myself. She somewhat recognised my grandfather but that came and went.

She was born in Scollard, Alberta, Canada on the 18th September 1926, Phyllis Gwendolen Kite she was a Jehovah's Witness. Her father, Mr Cyril John Kite, was a farmer from Welwyn, Hertfordshire, UK and her mum, Adele Mathilda Emblem, came from Nanaimo, Vancouver Island, B.C. She was married to Peter Langford Bridle, from Derbyshire, UK, on the 9th August, 1953 in Nanaimo, Vancouver Island. They moved to Malawi to become missionaries where they had their one and only son Paul David Bridle (my father).

Phyllis Gwendolen Kite

Mr & Mrs Peter Langford Bridle

I wanted to post an entry to mark the time when she left this physical world and finally met her creator. Sunday 4th March 2007 @ 9.30am. R.I.P