A walk with Stan
Stan is my dog, some would say that he is my best friend. Others would say that I was his best friend and that is where many of the questions arrive from. Do I own Stan, or does he own me. Stan or [Stanley] to give him his Sunday [Name]. His friends call him StanMan, is a Cocker Spainel. A slightly excitable dog when he’s out on a walk. Never shuts up. He could never be an asassian. He can not approach anything in quiet mode, tries chasing birds, gives them the heads up with the front end noise.
Stan lost his best friend in November “16” George a doberman. I had George before Stan. We did not get Stan to keep George company. We just inherited Stan from my son. Who could not cope with him. George and Stan where friends for the start, considering George never seem to like many other dogs.
Anyway more on George later and there will be more. Stan gives me something that no one else can. He gives me thinking time. The time that I walk with him, is the time that I think about my photography and considering photography is my job I need to think about a lot.
The other day Stan and I took a route for a walk that we have never been down before. A new journy of discovery to see new areas. Only to us to. Others the route has been seen before.
I like to find new places to walk with Stan. I do this because when you travel the same route all the time, you close your eyes to your surroundings and become complacent to life. This does not allow your brain to refreash and re-establish a thought process, you stagnate. You become bored with what you are and what you are doing. In life change one thing each day. You will enjoy life more.
The walk that we took runs parallel with a railway line, which is not a working line but one that is run by euthuist for the old railway. Now some people might think that these men are on the side of strange. Men who may have toy train sets in the their bedrooms. Grown men men who sit in the bath wearing train drivers caps. Well they might, some people might think that I am strange snapping with my camera what I consider to be interesting, well I might be. Am I hurting you. We are all different each and everyone of us. In this, why should we judge someone else, thats strange is it not.
Near to the railway line I noticed a container from China. Once, we were a proud industrial Britain keeping men and women in work all over our land. Now we use our skill with the internet to keep the hard working people of China employed in their factories producing goods for us.
On the other side of my walk is vast open fields used for growing crops. Food for the table. Food for sale. Only the night before was I watching the news, reports on how much food is wasted in this country. I am not the innocent in this act but part of the gulity. In this land we have people for one reason or another who rely on food banks for the daily food and thousands of us cast to the bins, food that is still edible and usable. In this fact I am shamed.
Either side of the path that me and Stan are taking is restricted by the fence that binds us to the path. The route that we chose to take in life is always directed by unseen restrictions that we may never know are there until we walk in boundaries that life gives
Boundaries we can see are sometimes the boundaries that we do not want. Obstacles of money obstacles of state or class. I often think that still in the day that we live. There are the unseen measures that hold you within the restrictions that you should dare to move from. I am a white male. You may think that I would not know what its like within discrimination. To know how this feels. You would be wrong people have and still do disciminate against me.
I have many random thoughts when I an with Stan when I am with my camera. They are my random thoughts. I might share more with you. I might not who knows. I have many more journeys to take with Stan and many more pictures within my camera.