When I was a child, my sisters and I were regularly taken on family walks, and we often grumbled about it. On one of these occasions we were with a friend of my parents’, and as we made our way along the footpath she told me how, when her father went out walking, he was always sure to spend a good deal of time looking down. She said his pockets were full of interesting things, very often things people had dropped, little treasures he found as he went. I often think of him when I notice an interesting thing.
I have decided to make a record of some of the things I’ve seen when I am out walking.
On the day I decided to document things I noticed discarded or accidentally dropped on pavements, I found this.
The interesting thing about this card is that although it is simply a flyer for beauty treatments, when I saw it lying there the words had a strange effect on me. I felt suddenly valued and rather cheered up as if the card was left specifically for me to find. I wondered if I should perhaps make my own cards, printed with similar statements and leave them around town. Would this make other people feel better too.
It could be graffiti, it could be modern art but I think it is code for the road diggers – still I always find the vivid colours they use very striking.
It is unsual to find a whole pair of gloves on a pavement, they tend to get lost in ones. It made me wonder if their owner had deliberately dropped them – I remember doing this myself when I was a child.
Photo © Lauren Child.
This object – a tiny princess – has been neither lost nor discarded, though she has the appearance of someone lost, standing as she is up to her knees in bird bath water.
What do we miss when we look at the world held in the palm of our hand?
And how can we persuade ourselves, or reassure ourselves, that it is worth the effort to look away? That when we turn our attention wholly away from the device, we will be rewarded? That sometimes to walk through the landscape without a phone to our ear can give us exactly what we need?
I am trying to train myself to put my phone away and out of mind until it’s really needed: no idle texting, no calls, no checking instagram or emails, and the camera only to be used when I see something I feel I truly want to keep. In truth, it’s hard. But I am convinced it’s worth it.
This fox wasn’t abandoned, he was tied to the railings, and there to advertise knitting.
I liked the way this tie was casually draped on the handle of this phone box. It made me think it might belong to a super hero – someone who needed to get changed out of his suit in a hurry.
I woke up one morning and I saw this tree shadow perfectly placed on this building. The movement of the shadow leaves was strangely mesmerizing.