Tuesday, 31 July 2007
Bats and and the photography blues.
I've been scanning in my collection of old photos this week. Archie took a sudden rush of blood to the head and decided to paint three rooms of our house and my contribution to the cause is to reduce the amount of stuff that gets returned into them. I've been taking photos since I was about eight using everything from my first Poloroid - a Christmas present from the parents who knew I had no patience - to my dad's SLR, and these days the joys of digital. There are literally hundreds of pictures and I decided to sort them out and scan them. It has been great seeing the pile reduce as I chuck out blurry landscapes and pictures of people whose names I can't remember, but it has also been a melancholy task. Lots of thinking to do. Shall I keep pictures of people I once cared about but who hurt me? How do I feel about seeing images of people I loved who have died but are now smiling out at me from my computer screen? One of the most poignant things is to see photos of my younger self, especially in my teens and early twenties, absolutely stuffed with confidence and the knowledge that I was unique and special and bound for greater things. I wish I'd bottled those feelings so that I could have a sniff of them now and then when my grown up confidence deserts me.
On the upside, I met a dead bat! We were hanging out with Sylvia the jeweller and her beasties on Saturday night and had just eaten a glorious meal of lasagne ( with hand made pasta ) and lemon surprise pudding. As we lay about with groaning tummies, a strange noise was heard on the stairs. It was Original Puss and she was carrying a bat. Luckily for us, if not for the bat, it was already dead. So, as you do in the middle of a dinner party, we had a good look at the body.
The bat was a Soprano Pipistrelle and most likely a youngster just learning to fly. His wings were incredibly tough but soft, like suede. Tiny little feet and beautiful ears. Not vampirish at all. Rangercraig who was also at the dinner party took the bat home to be pinned and displayed at the Ranger Centre for other folk to admire. Beats after dinner mints anyday!