Out of nowhere.

Another day, another blog. Another day, the same dreary weather... and still, I look forward to the challenge of picking up a shot each day ... not just any old shot ... no, a shot with a story.

Come to think of it, every shot actually tells two stories. Firstly the story of how it came about. By that I mean the photographer's story that is linked to having taken any given image. How the photograph came about, what inspired the photographer and prompted him/her to take the shot and what the photographer intends to convey with the image, all is concealed within a story.

Secondly there is the story the image will invite the viewer to have when seeing any given photo. Sometimes the viewer knows nothing about how and why a picture was taken and yet he or she will start running a story for themselves. Naturally, the intensity and strength of an image will have a direct impact on the intensity and longevity of the impression it will (hopefully) provoke.

Street photography is pretty unique in that sense because unless the photographer focuses on a particular aspect of street photography, let's say poverty or life in a shopping mall for example, anything could happen. Without a specific approach or brief for the assignment, the photographer has to stay open to all eventualities.

I choose to stay open. For the time being at least. This means that I am observing everyone and everything. I am literally constantly on the look out for "something".

When setting off I sometimes only know in the very last minute where to go. Nothing is pre- planned as such. Today, I thought of Streatham. I soon noticed that nothing much was inspiring me to even stop and consider taking a shot.

I am sure you will have come across the feeling of almost doing a "double take" when you see something, or stopping in your track to look at something. This is the feeling I get when I feel the urge to take a shot. Only I don't do a "double take", I immediately take a shot. Sometimes even two! However, today, it wasn't happening so far.

Other than seeing an old man on the ground in the middle of the road surrounded by people, nothing prompts me to stop. Not knowing the story behind the old man's incident I move on. He was looked after so no need to rubber neck for too long.

The only urge I felt in Streatham was to leave... quite quickly :) The highroad is usually very busy. Today was no different and my feeling that it lacks atmosphere gets reinforced. In fact I feel a bit at a loss and out of place in this part of Streatham.

The days are getting shorter and the light being the way it has been for the past few days, I was beginning to wonder where my shot of the day was going to be coming from :)

I got back to my parked bike and cycled another route into Balham. I wondered where I would stop. I knew something was about to jump out at me ... but what :) Relax, I though!

Something guided me to get off at the back entrance of Sainsbury's. I swing off Bedford Hill and left into Sainsbury's car park. As I passed the back entrance an image that simply told the story of how I felt for a while today, caught my eye.

Quick, I need to get rid of my bike so that I can get closer without disturbing the scene. Luckily, a pole came to my rescue. I untangle the camera from around my neck and shoulder. I get close enough to place my camera with the 50mm f.1.8 just below hip height and release the shutter (without looking through the lens). My subject is oblivious not only of my action ... but probably of a lot more too! Nobody else in sight ... at least not while I was taking the shot :)

At long last

Every time I am in Balham I see this man ... and each time I say to myself : "he would make a good picture". And I ask myself how I could best catch him ... should I ask him, should I strike up a conversation, should I get him unaware? What? I always feel that when you ask a person whether they would be OK having their photo taken, they become very self conscious. Their expression changes and the shot one once thought would make an interesting one, is gone...

Anyway, I was on my way to having my hair cut when I saw him crossing the road. The same thought entered my mind .. only this time it was followed by, "never mind he's on his way home."

So I walk into Style and Beauty on Bedford Hill and immediately take a snap of "Bettie" looking rather bored sitting under the hairdryer. She didn't notice. Irish Bettie, I'm later told, is 80 and I must say is looking "grand" for her age!

Elaine, has never seen me with a camera.

"Nice camera, how much would a camera like that cost? My son loves taking photos - he's not quite four years old mind you but he's always clicking away. I love looking at photos but don't ask me to be in one!

"No, you're fine, I won't!"

Shame, I thought because, capturing people in their work environment is something I love doing.

Anyway, looking none the worse for my haircut I'm off, still in search of my shot.

I head over to my bicycle, unlock it, push it along the pavement and what I see from a distance puts a smile on my face.

I'm pushing my bike faster now. Next to the bench in front of the pub there is no other than "that man" again.

He's turning straight towards me with a big grin. While attaching my bike I take a first shot. I've actually exchanged a few words with him before ... before I started my blog ... but he won't remember and you'll soon know why! He's commented on my bike before saying that it's safe here because he will look after it!

"Are you going to look after my bike then?" click...

"Yeah, it's safe here. And he continues to say words I couldn't quite figure out.

"Pardon?"

It sounded like : "I'm retired. I have a camera (he pretends he's taking a photo). I used to do welding. That's my car." (he pointed at an empty hearse !).

"Ah, OK and what's your name?"

"Bill. Bill and Ben!" he stretched out his hand.

We shake hands. "Nice to meet you Bill!" click, click

All in the span of 2 minutes.

"OK I'll be back Bill just going to that shop."

He's back sitting on his bench, minding my bike.

When I get back Bill's standing under the flower basket in front of he pub, beer can in hand chatting to another man.

I wave, "see you again Bill."

He waves back.