...so clearly. It was bright but bitterly cold, and the salt scented wind was whipping my hair across my face. Seeing these photographs again is quite strange. We spent so much time at Hengistbury Head when I was growing up. So many hours building sand castles. Scrambling over the rocks, with distant calls of 'be careful, don't slip!'. Of playing crazy golf and laughing until there were tears streaming from our eyes because we were so terrible at it. Of sipping hot chocolates in the cafe, the one permanent source of warmth and shelter from the elements. When I met Mark I shared my love of this place with him and we spent so many hours taking photographs and sitting, just talking about anything and everything.
It's been four years since I've stood in this spot looking out to sea and I have no yearning to return. The memories I have are so vivid and unspoilt, the magic lies there and in photographs now. And I'm quite happy for it to stay there, for the time being at least.
* * *- Pictures taken with an ActionSampler & the first of the negatives I've scanned since rediscovering them. I wasn't expecting it to be such an emotional process, but it's reminded me why I fell in love with the medium of photography in the first place. The power of a single image. It's pure magic.