On the beach…

beach_early_morn_2377Not hearing, not seeing and not speaking any evil depends on an individual’s concept of evil. Within the family of man, barefaced lies, equivocation or deep sincerity all function equally when adopting this maxim. Yesterday, a friend sent me a photo of a blue plaque commemorating the life of a mutual acquaintance. The short inscription on the plaque defined the time that he had been living amongst us, his name, his profession and the epitaph ” Always right”.

The same epitaph might serve well for mankind.

A moment alone, immersed in our origin, simultaneously defines our frailty and refreshes us.


.. making us feel that we have washed off some of the shit and that we’re stronger for that.

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 2013, Digital photography, Emotion, France, harmony, Health, Photography, summer, Uncategorized, Writing and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

15 Responses to On the beach…

  1. There is something about the sea that calls us back home somehow. A pull of energy that reminds us we are so frail compared to her waves and wiles. What a truly horrible epitaph!

  2. Karen says:

    That beautiful beach would so refresh the spirit.

  3. Mad Dog says:

    That’s a beautiful beach – you’ve reminded me of Reginald Perrin and the late Leonard Rossiter.

  4. I’m trying to think of a good epitaph for my grave. All I have for right now is “you kids get off my plot!”

  5. Having no control over the epitaph, or being perceived that way — what’s worse?

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