Lately i have been noticing things on streets.
Objects that have a mysterious and surreal life of their own.
Some have struck me as odd.
At other times i see in this ephemera messages.
Signs to do with life and stuff.
On my way home i saw these.
They struck me as plain odd.
large rusty scissors lying in the street.
Their cartoon scale awoke me.
I probably, fleetingly, wondered how they had arrived there.
The scissors had an atmosphere of strangeness.
They lay, on the floor, directly opposite the local infant school.
Working in tandem, a couple of infants, would barely be able to raise them together.
The risk assessment alone would dissuade a teacher from taking them into a class.
They were mysterious.
Perhaps, like some character in a Beckett play, there’s little or no need for an explanation of how they arrived at their present predicament and location.
There was a certain drama to them in just being there, at that moment in time.
The following day they were gone.
I saw this letter M on the side of the road whilst out walking Betty my dog.
The day happened to be mothers day.
I reasoned, this small yellow letter was a sign.
I should give my mother a call.
Which i did.
I think it made her happy.
So, M is for mothers.
And seeing how i remembered to buy and send her a card, which might even have got there on time this year, M is also for [small] miracle.
The prospect of journeying into Purgatory, or Town as we like to affectionately call it round here, already had me feeling ill at ease.
And then i saw this.
It was on the floor at the local bus shelter.
The leaflet may have held some powerful message.
I don’t know.
The image and title alone captured my full attention.
It had probably been discarded.
It may have been placed there.
responsible might have known the effect it would have.
To me it was saying “turn around, go back home.”
Perhaps i should have.
I photographed it and then carried on my way.