Cloud-Trap, Blackrock Baths
The skies cleared Monday evening. I went for a very quick drive down to Blackrock, my old blip-hunting ground. Sure enough, the sun was doing interesting things to the windows, the roof of an incoming train, the sea, the crumbling, graffitied, lime-white walls of the old derelict swimming baths. On the sea-side of the railway, between the back of that ruin-in-progress and the fenced-in DART platform, there's a dark, narrow alleyway leading to a kind of no-place (at least when the tide's in). This time, my eyes were greeted a big puddle, a remnant of the showery weather we've been pummelled with over the last few days.
I know, puddles are a photographic cliché (what isn't?). But I love them: holes, luminous rips in pedestrian perspectives, ladders in the dull, grey stocking, sky-traps.
After my meeting with the puddle, I encountered THIS MAN squatting on the wall. He seemed to be meditating, rather than gazing out to sea, though that may just have been his usual posture for wall-squatting. Though I didn't meet up with SLANT yesterday, I see he has also taken a seascape; furthermore, his shot has the Pigeonhouse goalposts, nestled to the right. To complement that, mine has them on the left. Synchronicity in action.