I can’t remember the last time it snowed properly here. It’s not something I’ve ever welcomed. Living in a city my experience of snow has been largely negative. It messes with our transport system and makes getting anywhere a nightmare; it looks pretty only for a matter of hours and then turns to brown slush; and if the weather stays cold the slush then turns to slick ice patches which (as a person with zero sense of balance) I dread!
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London is a city of contrasts, where famous sights and almost palatial homes can rub shoulders with the worn and neglected. Just as its people are diverse and eclectic, so too are its buildings.
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I have lived in Ealing for 39 years, and in our present home in South Ealing for 34 years, but I never knew until very recently that Margot Fonteyn lived near here, or that Agatha Christie’s parents are buried in our local cemetery. I didn’t know that Spencer Walpole, who was Home Secretary under three different Tory governments in the mid-19th century, is also buried there.
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In street photography the moment is everything; press the shutter too soon, or too late, and as Cartier-Bresson said, the moment is lost.
