. . . as well creating narratives, whilst walking I see photo opportunities . . . when I am in my stride, I am reluctant to stop . . . if the image is compelling, or illustrates a story I am telling, I try to capture it . . . this is part of the blog and FB posts, integral to the journey sharing . . .
. . . one that escaped was just outside Najera . . . a perfect pastoral scene . . . below the path, a field half enclosed by banks . . . a hundred sheep grazing (do they ever stop?) . . . curled up opposite me, their shepherd . . . relaxed and watchful . . . the problem is I am reluctant to take the photo without permission . . . it's only polite to ask . . . and if I go down, disturb the sheep to ask, the moment will be lost . . . instead I wave, keep going . . . he waves back . . . a brief connection between strangers . . . the image not stored in the cloud or my Tab, but in my mind . . . where memories are stored is another question . . . in the brain, or out in the ether, the brain a transmitter/receiver tuning in to access it . . . and if Tesla was right about this and you, dear reader, can only tune in to the right frequency, you will see the shepherd and his flock outside Najera, one sunny afternoon at the beginning of December 2014 . . .
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