"One for sorrow". My wife proclaims, giving a salute to a lone magpie, that was foraging on the hard shoulder, risking death at any moment. My head on a swivel, clutching my beloved camera I took a shot.
She is a superstitious soul my wife. I don't give much credence to superstition, quite, on the contrary, I sometimes go to great lengths to defy it. I'll never forget the day when I picked up my results from my photography degree. As I was walking a black cat crossed my path, to which I didn't bother waving at or saying hello to it, or chanting some incantation to ward away evil spirits. Moments later I saw a row of wheelie bins with the number "13" emblazoned on them all. "Balls to it!", I thought. I took a photo of them. Two hours later I received my results - 1:1!
Anyway. We have spent the past 5 years toing and froing on the A55 and M56, between North Wales and Buxton in Derbyshire. My wife always drives, which frees me up to photograph everything I see. It keeps my mind and hands occupied that way. This also enables me to see what other people don't notice as they tram along at 70+. It makes my heart sing to witness the beauty of banality, with a miserable, drab. repetitive and vapid, never-ending saccade of black and green. The detritus and jetsam, of mystery objects, left behind by millions of people of the move, create strange shapes and traces of decay. Over the past five years, I have seen a lot of decay. Nothing is permanent. Humankind is a blink of an eye. Even for tarmac and steel. That is definitely "One for Sorrow".
The following photographs are just some from the past 5 years. this is just the tip of the iceberg!