A couple of weekends ago we went to visit First Child at his college, and attended the football game there so we could watch him play in the marching band. Watching the band was quite stirring–the band comes up and over a hill and marches down it in formation, led by the big drums you can hear a long time before you can see them, and the band members wearing their kilts (yes, I said kilts, and I’m here to tell you it’s brilliant–everyone looks great in a kilt), with the pipers (that would be bagpipers) march onto the field accompanied by the skirling of their pipes and the cheering of the crowd–I’m always a complete mess, wiping my eyes with tissues and fiddling with my camera as the band comes into view. Still, I really did manage to get their entry and the halftime show on video, and then . . . somehow . . . when I was transferring the film and some stills to my computer back at home, the cybergremlins snatched them and they’re . . . gone.
All the pipes and the sporrans and the skirling–skirling, vanished! When else am I going to get a chance to use skirling in a sentence?
I was more than a little consoled, though, when I came home and found online what’s probably a better video of the band than I had taken (First Child is in there somewhere–he’s the tall one with the trombone), and you can see a brief shot of both marching band and pipers here:
Alas, I also discovered after trying to upload the band videos that I’d lost a day of shooting I did before we left for our trip. Much of it was from an early morning trip to one of the beaches near here. I’d been pleased with how I thought the pictures would come out, so I spent a while muttering about them, swearing under my breath, and trying (as if that would have helped) to figure out what I’d done wrong, but I finally just had to admit that those images were history.
But they haunted me with their what-ifness (again, I know, useless) so today I headed back down to the spot where I’d taken them and took a new bunch. I wasn’t really trying to duplicate them–for one thing, the day I took the original bunch was overcast and intermittently rainy and today was sunnier, though it was only about 6:30 in the morning, the sun still low, so they would never have looked the same anyway.
I’ll never get back the ones that got away, but I was pleased with the quite different takes on some of the same subjects I took two weeks ago. We’ve also had a lot of rain in the last couple of days, and some high tides, which left quite remarkable patterns in a long stretch of pretty much abandoned sand (why don’t people in New England go to the beach during the fall? don’t they know this is the best time to be there?).
and here’s one that somehow survived the accidental deletion of the ones that got away:
If you want to see more, you can click over to my Flickr site and browse (leave a comment or two and say hi if you do, won’t you?).
So I’m happy and I’ve let go of the pictures that vanished between the bytes. I wonder, though, how do other people cope when the photo file goes missing, your computer eats your wonderful story, that last stroke on the painting ruins it, the ink spills on your brushwork, the last chord cannot be found?