no images were foundIt’s been so dismal these past couple of days – grey, brooding, blustery weather that seems to add to the sense of impending doom (financial and otherwise) currently being assiduously fostered by the media – that the golden glory of the weekend seems like a distant memory. (Apologies if it rained where you are) Or at least, it would be had I not spent a significant chunk of Saturday afternoon wandering around town taking photos.
Such is the magic conferred by a bit of decent light, even Waitrose car-park seemed brushed with a strange glamour. To my eyes, at least…perhaps it was just me, as far as that particular sight was concerned.
Wondering, gently bedazzled, around town for a while just looking, I was aware of something I’ve noticed before on a really sunny day – everything seems hushed, sounds are somehow slightly muffled.
I can’t believe I’m the only one subject to this oddness.
It’s not a very dramatic thing, perhaps one of a whole range of subtle perceptual shifts that can happen almost slyly, without our necessarily noticing it. Thinking about it, I suspect the only reason I noticed this time was because I wasn’t carrying out a specific task – get this shopping, go to that place, take that library book back etc. It make me wonder about how much of the total spectrum of our ‘raw’ perceptual input is filtered out as a regular thing. How big are the blinkers we normally wear?
I don’t have any great insights in these questions right now, but one interesting thought did manage to battle it’s way into my mind, past all the sensual stuff.
Does it all go quiet because I’m so busy looking that I haven’t got time to listen at the same time?