He’s just worried it’ll shrink

There I was then, waiting at the bus shelter. For the bus. Of course. Why else would I wait at a bus shelter? (Don’t answer that!)
Into town. Where I’d hook up with mate. And no doubt we’d go for one of our notorious little photojaunts whilst we chat about… er… “stuff”. As is our habit.

Getting to be quite a regular occurrence in fact. Well, at least it keeps us away from people. Strange creatures, people. Best avoided really.
And it keeps us out of mischief.
Um… no. On second thoughts scrub that last.
But who knows? With all this practise one day we may actually learn how to use these pic-taking gadget thingies properly. One day.

Anyway, there I was, stood at the bus stop. Mulling over the fact that it’s the first of June and that the Summer Solstice is only 20 days away. After which the nights will start getting longer and… oh pooh, best not depress meself.

Summer Solstice then. So it’d not be entirely unreasonable to be expecting some really gorgeous weather round about now. Would it?

Yet what am I looking at? Rain! That’s what! Grey skies and rain. Nasty ’orrible drizzly stuff. And wet. Bit of a disappointment that, really. Not that it’s wet. Rain’s supposed to be wet. The disappointment’s in the fact that it’s bloody well raining in the first place! And it looks likely to be settled in for most of the day.

Now this could present something of a snag. Cos mate, wimp that he is, doesn’t like taking his camera out in the rain. Despite the fact that its supposed to be weather-resistant. (Though that’s another tale, and one for mate’s telling.) Personally, I think he’s just worried it’ll shrink or something.

What this means is that we could end up with a couple of hours to kill and nothing to kill them with. Ye gods… we might even have to start talking about something sensible! And be serious! Can’t be having any of that.

As I recollect, the last time we were serious we ended up doing something really foolish… like spending money. Pounds even! Definitely can’t be having any of that.

Time to stretch the old brain cell then (all one of it) and see if I can come up with something that may loosely resemble an idea. No use leaving it to mate cos he’s even more useless than I at thinking of things and making decisions and stuff.

Well, perhaps that’s not totally fair. Cos he actually thinks of lots of things. I’m sure he does. He must do. Doesn’t he?

Meanwhile I’m stuck in this bus shelter, waiting for the bus. And peering out at the passing cars; peering around at the hedge and the ditch; peering around at the shelter itself; and all the while mulling. Mulling. Mulling. Suddenly, a flash of inspiration!

Bus shelter! Of course. A nice empty bus shelter. We can stand in it for as long as we like, keeping ourselves (and, more particularly, mate’s camera) relatively dry, all the while snapping the surrounding scenery. Even the bus shelter itself maybe.
At which point this flash of inspiration transforms into something else entirely… a real gem. It nearly comes close to what I was originally after… a proper idea!

The bus shelter itself!

We could make that our sort of “theme for the day”. Leaping way ahead of myself, suddenly I’m planning a dedicated Flickr set, titled perhaps something like “Anatomy of a Bus Shelter”. It almost ranks as a sort of mini social documentary photo project. Wow!

Well, all those precious types seem to be getting into this so-called “social documentary” lark. Apparently. So why shouldn’t we? Seems like if it’s anything to do with anything its “social documentary”. Handy. Hmm. I wonder if snapping pretty lasses… no, maybe not.

Now it’d be fairly safe to say that never before have I spent quite so much time thinking about bus shelters. Which did have its downside as it happens. Cos I then began to ponder why they’re called “bus shelters”.

It’s not as though buses shelter under them, is it? So really the term’s quite misleading. Not to say downright untruthful. What they should be called, if we wanna be correct, is “People Waiting For Buses Shelter”. Or even, perhaps more accurately, “People Waiting For Buses That Seldom Turn Up On Time Shelter”.

Though even that doesn’t quite do it. Maybe “People Waiting For Buses That Seldom Turn Up On Time Particularly When Its Raining Shelter”?

Yet neither is the word “Shelter” strictly truthful, cos nine times out of ten the wind’s blowing in the wrong direction and blows the rain into the sodding so-called “shelter”. So maybe “People Waiting For Buses That Seldom Turn Up On Time Particularly When Its Raining Not Very Good Shelter”.

At about which time the bus finally arrives. Just as well as it happens cos my thoughts were now beginning to get really silly… even by my standards. (Yes, I do have standards y’know!) And I was getting wet. So guess I’ll just stick with the term “bus shelter”. (Though I can’t quite leave this alone… why not “People Shelter”?)

Normal routine resumes then. Get into town; pay a coupla bills; meet up with mate; grab some nosh. And learn that our regular eatery is getting to be a distinctly dodgy place, especially when its raining. Cos it tends to fill up fairly rapidly with people. Not a good thing.

So then we kick this bus shelter idea around a bit and, next thing you know, that’s what we’re doing.

I have to say, in all honesty, there wasn’t quite as much mileage in it as I’d anticipated. Or maybe we just hadn’t picked on the right bus shelter. Whatever.
Cos it only really managed to keep us occupied for about 20 minutes or so. By which time however, heavens be praised, the weather seemed to have cleared up somewhat (though the rest of the afternoon was continually being interrupted by occasional showers).

A sort of tacit agreement to move on, maybe in quest of another bus shelter. Though that didn’t really pan out, possibly because it was moving away from the original thought. Which wasn’t about bus shelters in general but rather a bus shelter, in the singular.

Wandering on a bit further it dawns on us that across the road is a shop that just happens to sell ice cream. We know this… cos we’ve bought ice cream from there before.
Brief discussion ensues (all of about twenty seconds) along the lines of “Do people actually buy ice cream in this sort of weather? Seems a bit of a weird thing to do.”
We agree its prob’ly a bit weird… but since when has that stopped us?

And it’s not too long after this discussion that I discover mate appears to be developing a really odd way of eating ice cream…

How very curious.

Wander on a bit further then until we come to an interesting looking little pathway that’s clearly a shortcut to somewhere (shortcut to where? Does it matter?), and decide to investigate.

At which point the sky starts spitting at us again but, as luck would have it, there’s a neat little wooded area about half way along the path where we stop to shelter. And grab some pics of course.

It was one of those places that look really pretty “in the flesh” as it were but don’t seem to readily lend themselves to photography. It’s all just a bit too busy.
Dunno yet how mate did but of the dozen or so pics I shot there I only ended up with one that I quite like, and sort of works… after a fashion.

Rain eases off a little (returning intermittently) so onward again on what proved to be a broadly circular route conveniently leading us back toward the town centre.
Approaching which we come across something else that grabs our attention, causing us to pause and start brandishing the cameras again.
And what I end up with is another set on Flickr… “The Gate to Nowhere”. Heh heh. Though I really must try to stop coming up with these arty-sounding titles. They’re so… er… arty. Could create totally the wrong impression.

Finally, and inevitably, back to The Bear. Where mate reverts to his normal nasty vindictive self…

[Edit 03.06.2010 - Him#1's version, unfairly casting me in the role of a doddery old fart, is here!]