Some will see a discarded doll, others will find colour and texture, or geometry. Others might ask questions or have their own answers. A passer by, on the day, saw rubbish.
I feel the chill of unexpected mountain air, of tired legs from walking, of conversations had with visiting friends. Laughter and pain mixed as we joke about illness. We get lost and everyone complains but me. Edward pisses under a tree and Jennifer refuses to walk another step.
I am reminded of my friends and the death of Edward about whom we still joke. There’s the train ride home, exhausted, hungry, quiet. Then, as the day ends, we recognise the growth of friendship through memories and death.
There is great pleasures in knowing all this. Even now we argue on detail. That’s not important. We each have our own story to tell. The photograph is a reminder of a time and place. We add the rest.
