Image of the week… the one that broke her

15th April 2021

It seems I bring snow to Hastings.

My clumsy frozen fingers refused to move despite my wishes. I thought of Uma Therman in Kill Bill urging her little toe to move on her demand. The bitter air nips at my cheeks and I breathe it in greedily. I have a love hate relationship with snow in the winter. The adore the bleak neutral tones and emptiness. The crisp of the cold that wakes you up from any lethargic depression. The way snow paints everything so beautifully into silence- covering the landscape with a gentle hush. But I loathe the red raw skin, the relentless shivering and how one simple movement can take an hour of fumbling.

I reach the edge of the reserve and stare out across the cliff. I bunch of yellow flowers is tied to the fence .The snow covers it beautifully and I lift my camera, battling the wind. My hands desperately try to force the winder.


Am I broken or is the camera?

I try again, this time with gusto. I definitive clunk lets me know the camera has broken. I surrender and enjoy the walk until everything just looks like the same snowy path.

I stop the family hiking towards me and ask for directions to the car park. After a long exchange of unnecessary questions and pointing at Google maps I simply ask to follow them. They explain they are heading to the car park. This sounds hopeful. Yet the one they describe doesn’t sound right. I explain I had walked through mud up to my knees on arrival and they look at me disturbed.

After 25 minutes of polite , jolly small talk we reach the car park; their car park. I’m gutted. I’m cold and want to be swaddled in a blanket of fleeces and fed hot chocolate. More realistically I dreamt of the deafening blare of my car heating . Soon it would hit my face- a violent explosion of stale dusty warmth.

They pointed to a dot on Google maps and explained my car park was another 25-minute stroll. Without missing a beat, they clambered into the family station wagon.

I turned to face the road.

Ten minutes later I jumped as a car honked behind me, slowed down enough for me to see the family wave and then hooned off into the distant windy country lane.

As the scans came back today from my trip to Hastings two months later. I found this shot. It was the frame I took before the camera jammed.