Looking back over my shoulder

Looking back is so much easier that looking forward. So much safer, as prediction is an uncertain science. There are safe areas of prediction such as ” If you drink another bottle of tequila you will fall down” but I never believed such prophets of doom. The road in the rear view mirror was a sort of Calvary for me. I had been given the above advice, but in regard to the local red wine, and, as usual, felt the advice was foolish and not relevant to such as I. At this point I believe I was unaware that I was in freefall. In my mind the hood was down, music was blasting out, the wind was in my baldness and all was well. As others recount the moment I was on a barstool talking to an Alzheimer victim whose erudite conversation was making perfect sense to me. It was then that I realised that I had to get home. Home was 4kms down the road. An unlit country road bathed in a cloak of total darkness. I would have to feel and sniff my way home. The road home was edged with very deep ditches, most of which I examined in detail, face down. The darkness was so total that the firm tarmac was my only guide, but as I was unaware of any oncoming curve or corner, my path led me into ditches, concrete posts and any other hard thing that man’s ingenuity had placed in my path. A sudden flash of sanity reminded me that I had my phone with me. Jenny came to the rescue. Jenny tried to effect a rescue, but the news would have read ” …after exhaustive efforts the search has had to be called off”. It was so close, the dance was so simple that it evaded me. I saw the headlights coming towards me and stood up to wave and signal my position. The waving had a negative effect on my equilibrium and I fell backwards into the depth of the ditch where I remained, stunned, as her car whizzed past. I crawled up the rim of the ditch to see the red tail lights disappearing round a bend that I had not realised existed. This performance was repeated several times until the searcher, unlike John Wayne, went home.  A final crackling message on my communication system advised me that it was not cold, so I’d be fine – Roger and out. How true and perceptive was that final phrase. All good tales recount events that have taken place, fear and pain is forgotten, and we laugh because we’re OK and we can. As another day starts I’m already looking in the mirror for yesterday.


About Food,Photography & France

Photographer and film maker living in France. After a long career in London, my wife and I have settled in the Vendee, where we run residential digital photography courses with a strong gastronomic flavour.
This entry was posted in Digital photography, Photography, Writing. Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to Looking back over my shoulder

  1. i like the photo–selective coloring! The title + the picture says it all.

    anyway, your post sounds really sad:-( i wish i could say something nice, or share some words of wisdom, but i’m an idiot.

    i do hope that Today and Tomorrow give all their best to you so you wouldn’t be looking too often for Yesterday again…

  2. Great photo story–I enjoyed reading it. As long as we can laugh about yesterday . . .
    The photo–great framing, like the bright green framed with the dark colors. The photo in itself is a great metaphor for today and tomorrow, eh?

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