Can’t call my mind my own anymore


Quite some days ago now I’d decided to take a trek out to the village of Elstow, south of Bedford, and birthplace of John Bunyan.
I’d been told about a little-used footpath, somewhat overgrown nowadays, that takes one from Harrowden alongside the brook right into the village. Well worth exploring thinks I (and its about time I did some more Bedfordshire village pics as well).

Well, it didn’t happen… mainly on account of the weather. The day I’d planned for the trek suddenly, mid-morning, turned all miserable weatherwise so I shelved the plan.

Rather spooky to discover then, when next I met up with mate Darren, that he’d intended to do almost precisely the same thing!
That is, take a phototrip to Elstow via the footpath I’d intended to use, on the same day and pretty much at about the same time. And then, because of the weather, he scrubbed his idea.
All this without any prior planning or even discussion between us!

How weird would it have been, had our respective jaunts gone ahead as planned, to have met each other on such an out-of-the-way footpath, both heading toward the same destination. Spooky indeed!

Reflecting on this though, that we so often seem to share the same thoughts isn’t spooky at all in fact… rather, its getting to be a bit pesky. Dammit… can’t I call my mind my own any more?

Would seem to make sense then to have a sort of joint expedition on a day agreeable to us both, and such we decide.
And then occurs another spooky discovery. For in subsequent chat it seems part of our motivation (both his and mine) for wanting to visit that particular location is in quest of material for our respective December contributions to that photo themes project in which we both participate!

Lends a whole new meaning to the phrase “two minds with but a single thought”.
Even more strange is that we should confess to this for we’ve both (without actually verbalising it hitherto) fallen into the convention of deliberately not discussing what we intend to do for each month’s theme.

Anyway, Tuesday (the 16th) was the agreed date for this little jaunt, in the afternoon… cos we’d planned another photosession for the morning, just to get the day started sorta thing.

And it nearly didn’t happen again. For having completed the morning session (which will no doubt provide the subject for another blogpost shortly) and stopped off at The Bear for lunch, the weather started to change.
Consequently we decide to skip Elstow once more. Having resigned ourselves to this disappointment what should we find when we finish with The Bear’s hospitality and set foot outside?
Yep… the weather’s changed again, rendering the Elstow trip viable, just about.

By now the light wasn’t brilliant and there wasn’t that much of daylight left anyway (allowing for the time it would take us to get to our destination) but we persevered, and thus I’ve ended up with a new Flickr set named (unsurprisingly) “Elstow“, of which the following are a sample…





Also, I can now add an update to the “new boots situation” (see this post).
For the Elstow trip was my very first trek in the new footwear, so I was interested to see how they’d perform.

Bit of a sidetrack here… this unwitting synchronicity of thought and deed between mate and I is now beginning to get bloody ridiculous. For what should I discover when we set out on our jaunt? That he too has just bought himself some new boots, and he too is wearing them for our phototrip!
Fortunately they’re not quite the same as mine… had they been so I think I would probably have done something nasty to him then and there. Or vice versa maybe.

To resume then…

As it happened, not only was I lugging my normal photokit backpack plus tripod (not the heavyweight Slik though I’d hasten to add) needed for the morning session, but I’d also stupidly dumped something else in the backpack that added about an additional 3-3.5Kg to the weight.
No need here to go into lengthy explanations concerning the precise nature of that lump… be it sufficient to say that clearly I must have momentarily taken leave of my senses. (Well, it was a rather sizeable bag of small change if you must know that, from first thing in the morning, I’d intended to take with me and convert into goods during my weekly shop at the conclusion of the day’s photography. Yeah… I know it was a stupid idea… now!)

However, carrying that sort of weight around all day long on a couple of photosessions was a really good test for the new boots.

Finally homeward-bound at day’s end my legs ached, my shoulders ached, my back ached, bits of me ached that I didn’t even know I had… essentially I was bloody knackered.
But at least my feet didn’t ache. Weren’t even sore. So I think the new footwear’s a bit of a success.

Plus whilst trekking around Elstow I ingeniously managed to tread on what must have been the only dog turd on a path in the entire village (it could only happen to me! Big one it was too. And all squishy), which I think merits regarding the boots as now well and truly broken in!

About fotdmike

Occasional photographer; occasional writer/blogger; occasional activist; occasional computer-geek. Bit of a fool really.
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5 Responses to Can’t call my mind my own anymore

  1. forkboy says:

    What particularly worries me, and it is all about me after all, is that you and I have experienced plenty of this sort of thing as well, which means, via the transitive property of equality, that Darren and I are likely thinking alike too.

    Strange……I’m suddenly possessed with the urge to whack a certain Bedfordian with a pool cue.

    And I must say I love the final bit about the dog poop. Having two myself I don’t know what I would do with a pair of trainers sans dog shit!

  2. fotdmike says:

    If you’re thinking like Darren then I feel truly sorry for you!


  3. forkboy says:

    Well let’s see what he has to say about this dual slight!

    Darren? Hello? Are you there?

  4. fotdmike says:

    What slight would that be then? Surely you’re not assuming I was suggesting mate’s thinking is defective are you?

    You could equally as well have assumed that my sympathy is occasioned by doubts about the capacity of your mind to handle the sophisticated concepts by which mate’s thoughts are regularly exercised.


  5. forkboy says:

    I suppose my writing “I don’t get it,” would only further prove your point.

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