Sometimes it’s best not too look. Sometimes you don’t need to or don’t have the chance. The A55, speeding along in the passenger seat on a clear autumn afternoon, no time to look, everything whizzing past so quickly - apart from the sky.
The big blue sky and the clouds, wispy and drawn out like smeared emulsion across a light blue silk dress. Don’t look. Just react.
Point.
Click.
Point.
Click.
Point.
Click.
I never saw that tree or the pylon, and even if I’d tried I’d never have timed it so that the street lamp was right in the middle of shot. I didn’t even notice the contrail.
Sometimes it’s best not to look. Sometimes you just have to trust to chance.
