A damp trudge around Wimbledon Village this lunchtime - but some lingering autumnal leaves on the wall outside the Dog & Fox suddenly provided some wonderful color. Provide your own metaphorical reading. In other photographic news, I was thrilled when my father (looking at the contents of yet another drawer) asked what he should do with his old camera, and accepted my suggestion that he might give it to me. It's a Zeiss Contina from the late 50s, in a beautiful leather case, which I coveted for years and years and years as an exotic piece of technology that I was barely allowed to touch (although, indeed, I took my first photograph with it, of my father and grandmother gardening). It produced, or produces, wonderful images. Of course, I now find that it's disarmingly cheap to buy one on eBay - but so what. This, for me, has always been the Ur Camera. And indeed, it's possibly the reason why, with the little point and shoot that I carry everywhere - and with which I took the picture above - I still fetishize its Zeiss lens.
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