My red shoulder bag  – check

My trusty camera in the ‘other’ shoulder bag – check

Sunglasses – check

.. and off we go!

With my current ear worm on my ipod and my eyelids closing and opening in time to the drugged beat, and a warm-hot sun on my sundress clad back, saturdays cannot get better.

Walking down from the cathedral, as I wind my way into cobblestone streets – a wave of riotous colours hits my retina. Peaches, bananas, apples – brilliant reds and greens, basket of neatly arranged starwberries, the wet, verde of lettuce leaves – a dozen varieties of them; poky pink-tipped asparaguses tied up in bundles; tiny, yellow potatoes and fiery red tomatoes on a stalk; royal juicy purple onions and my favourite – broccoli so green and fresh that you can hear them call out to you – from across the street.

I try, I really do. I take my camera with me every saturday, with hopes of capturing some colour, an iota of life.

A smiling paysan with crinkly eyes, a laughing madame with flowers in her hair and stalks of violet irises in her hands, a tiny toddler seriously examining her own fingers – sticky with toffee..  red balloons bouyed by the slight gust of wind at the town square; a small crowd of families and cybershot-toting tourists waiting for the enormous house-sized cuckoo clock to strike the hour; kids selling home-made cakes and cookies to fund their summer trips; similing locals walking with pamphlets urging you to “Sauver Lavaux” or “Pensez aux enfants en Somalie” or even “Utilise le transport locale” !

Up and down the steep streets I walk, hoping for a quiet corner somewhere, where I can take my camera out and try to think about framing a shot – it proves close to impossible. I have clutched the camera body through my bag, many times, only to losen the grip and walk on, into the milling crowd – to simply soak in the summer milieu.

After going through the motions and armed with an overflowing bag of vegetables on one hand and a bouquet of lillies and chinese roses on the other, I fight the urge to take the metro back home and walk back uphill through the same winding streets.

Its during times like these that I feel truly lucky to be human.

There isnt a higher joy than earning your share of fresh vegetables every week 🙂


5 thoughts on “

  1. so many times… i walk through a market full of flowers and i wish there was something to capture the scent of each flower individually and not just the photo… for the photo remains thoroughly irrelevant without the scent.

    the bard might have said that the name wasn’t necessary but he did specify that the scent was the key to the rose.

    many a times… i’ve had to fight the urge to take a photograph only so that i could walk around taking everything in… knowing fully well that such moments cannot be duplicated and also smug with the realisation that the camera doesn’t capture what the eye sees.

    thanks for the wonderful post! :*

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