A Bright Day

O

nce again on a wandering day, this time along the coast to the South.

Not really sure where this particular spot was, I just can vaguely remember that I scribbled “Torre del Greco” on the paper strip attached to the B&W film I developed later on.
Yeah, I did my own B&W developing (and printing!)…

I can remember that it was a crisp and sunny winter day, with a sky reminiscent of a perfectly polished steel plate that had been given a perfect and bold new coat of paint, so blue that it would have not looked real if there hadn’t been a few clouds.

Because the day had started a little gloomy, I had loaded a Tri-X Pan film (400 ASA) which turned out to be totally unnecessary. On the other hand, it gave the extra choice of processing it with some extra grain, an effect I do not dislike, if applied judiciously.

I had become completely lost during the wandering, since I never manage to keep track of my bearings when some interesting spots announce themselves through the viewfinder.

I had an ill-defined sensation of standing behind the walls of a young ladies’ boarding school of some sort, at its back, where a chapel and a garden might have been. I remember I could hear the sparkling echoes of voices and laughter spilling over the high wall and then, all of a sudden,  all went silent as if the girls had never been there and I had imagined it all.

It was a most peculiar cognition, like suddenly waking up during a dream and being a hundred percent sure to be actually hearing the sounds of what the dream was about.

Maybe, I had imagined it all. I haven’t the faintest idea. I only know that I remained still, for quite a few minutes, waiting to hear those girlish voices and the laughter, but the world remained completely silent.

In that moment between dream and reality, I saw very clearly the beautiful sharp shadows, the perfect lines of the walls, the windows and the fluffy crags of clouds in the sky, felt the eerie silence and I knew this would become a beautiful photograph.

By the way, it took me the best part of an hour to find the route to the train back home…

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.