So we were over at the Torridon cottage this weekend and once again Gail made me stand on the stone in the front garden so she could take yet another picture of me, framed between the Scots pines, the sea loch just beyond.
Gail, I said, I’m thinking my loyal readers might be getting a wee bit bored of this view by now. Do I really have to post the shot you took today? Nice though it is [one has to be diplomatic] I don’t want my blog to become repetitive.
A look of incredulity and hurt flickers across Gail’s lightly freckled face.
Bertie, she says, how could anyone possibly tire of this magnificent view? Which incidentally is never, ever the same; it changes by the season, by the day and even by the hour. Look, yesterday’s snow on the mountain tops has melted in the warm May sunshine and the surface of the loch is now rippled by the breeze whereas in the still of the early morning we were treated to an upside down version of our little corner of paradise. If it rains as heavily as forecast, then amidst the fifty shades of grey landscape we will see a white ribbon of water cascading down distant hillside. Should the skies stay clear, the Torridonian sandstone will glow red in the setting sun. And of course Bertie, you, who provide the perfect foreground interest for the composition, also have a hundred different ways of looking cute as cute can be.
Am I alone in thinking that being considered cute ‘foreground interest’ is just a wee bit patronising if not downright insulting?
The good news is that, once I had done posing, we headed out on a coastal ramble and Gail remembered to bring along the camera along, so I can show you some fresh views of the landscape (and, of course, me).
Friends, I am wondering if any of you are similarly afflicted with a human who simply cannot resist photographing you over and over again in some favourite spot, and who gets upset if you complain, or demand a change of scene?
