Washout; a phrase used to define a let-down, an event that doesn’t live up to expectation, or, as in this case, doesn’t even get off the ground.
This weekend, Hannah and I travelled to Lancashire to watch the might Lighting (my home team), take on the damned Outlaws of Nottingham (Hannah’s home team) in the T20 Blast. I’ve not managed to get to any of the T20 cricket this season so far, and given who this was, and the teams involved, I was stoked to go and see it.
Then, we arrived in Manchester. We were kitted up; Hannah sporting Nott’s green and yellow, myself in the red and blue of Lancs, to watch Jos Buttler take on Alex Hales in a head-to-head that that pits two of the best batters England has to offer against each other in a slog-fest that should have provided myself with at least two, maybe three, catching opportunities in our seats behind the bowlers’ arm. Only, Manchester had other ideas. As we calved a path north on the train, the clouds grew heavier, the London sun turned to Midlands grey, before it finally developed into that grey/black anvil crowd anyone from Manchester is truly accustomed to.
We arrived in Manchester early, and met my sister for a few pre-match bevvies, by now it was raining sideways and after a few sips of beer we were widely expecting the cricket to be called off. It was. An hour before it started.
The evening turned into an evening catching up with family I haven’t seen in years, and drinking in Manchester, so it wasn’t all bad.
Restless from our misfortunate evening in Manchester, Hannah proposed the idea of going to Lytham on the Saturday, we’ve never been, together, so it was a lovely opportunity to visit the coastal town and visit the iconic windmill that it is so well known for.
Thankfully for my photography, it was one of those blue-sky days broken by the type of clouds you can pick shapes out of, better known as Cumulus.
I really went to town on the photography side of the day, and in between the hours walking the coast, we visited a very nice tapas restaurant for lunch, called ‘Java’. Considering that Lytham is 20 minutes on the train from Preston, I am surprised I haven’t been to Java before. That said, I really would like to visit for an evening dinner in the future; the menu was lovely and the atmosphere was just right. Plus, the array of wine on show was enough to please the most practised of wine connoisseurs.
It was a joy photographing Lytham. I’ve had a few weeks off what I like to think of as ‘proper photography’. I had my edge back, and it made me tick wandering the streets identifying places to pick out. I went in mind with a few ideas to practice. I wanted a black and white photo with the windmill on show, and got it. I wanted an iconic seascape, which I got. And I kept to the unwritten rule I have developed: quality over quantity.
Too often I have come back with 100+ photos, 30 of which I use and the other 70 sit gathering dust on my hard-drive or else are deleted. So I want to take less, take better and bridge that gap between amateur and semi-pro photography. I need that sustenance to my photos that lead to that step from ‘that’s a good photo’ – keep scrolling, to; ‘now there is something about that photo that really gets my attention’.
Washout suits this post. About a week and a half ago there was the most almighty storm in London, I woke up at 1am to a clap that shook the windows – okay I have single glazed windows, but still! Elliott, my housemate got a shot that defies belief, a lightning bolt in slow-motion, but I did manage this video…
[to be added…]
The two of us were up for two hours watching the storm unfold, and you can see by the light followed by the clap that the storm was at least 7km from us. 7km! and listen to the noise! I would not have relished being underneath that storm when it unfolded!
It’s move-out week, and I envisage a stressful week, hopefully I’ll get this post out soon, but if I don’t the delay is purely because moving house is a bi….