Whenever I take a trip out of Manchester these days and find myself traversing the British countryside, I feel like
Mole in The Wind in the Willows: you know, the part when he's been away adventuring for the longest time, and one
day happens upon his old neighbourhood and his warm, familiar home. He feels it calling to him, and the tug is so insistent
that he's moved to tears when his companions try to urge him on beyond his past haunts. I suppose I get a little like that
when I speed on a train from one city to another, through open countryside. At the little one-horse-town stops, when the doors
open, momentarily I get a brief glimpse into a world of smog-free air, where the sun shines that little bit brighter and the
colours seem so much more vivid. Perhaps we all crave what we come from, if our memories of such times and places are good.
I know in many ways, we can't go bac:k: time has, for all of us, moved on. As Tom discovers, in one of my favourite books
Tom's Midnight Garden; as the hands of the clock move, so everything around us changes and beautiful things
are lost. Many of the places I loved as a child exist now only in my imagination, or in a few old photographs. That's partly why
I feel a need to take pictures of things which I feel are special, so that I may share them and preserve them; keep them safe like
treasure. So many things in life are fleeting, and often we take them for granted or assume that they will always be there.
I know from experience that this is not always the case, and that we should therefore value what we have today and
enjoy the moment while it lasts.
Here are some of my moments: some of the beautiful places or things which make it all worth while.