To Dream Perchance to Sleep

 It's one of those nights. We all have them. You know, when you're lying in bed but just can't get comfortable and there are things flying around in your mind like a nest of agitated wasps. Well, tonight's that night.

We've had our first snowfall of the winter tonight, which has left a light dusting of snow on the ground, but with an almost full moon reflecting off the snow it is bright enough to sit outside and read a book. Not that it would be recommended, given that it is sub-zero out there. The snow has moved away though, and we are left with a high-level layer of thin cloud, just enough to diffuse the moon without obscuring it but thick enough to prevent a bit of stargazing. Orion is out there doing his thing, but it is definitely not deckchair weather.

Stargazing is something I enjoy, and I am currently teaching myself the art of astrophotography. One of the problems of living in the UK is that there are few areas where we can find a genuinely dark sky. Or a cloudless sky, for that matter. Our towns and cities are not really that far apart and therefore light pollution is pretty poor in many places. Fortunately, where we live the night sky is comparatively dark and on a clear night in the summer the Milky Way can be seen fairly easily. That said, one of the best places for night sky photography is Northumberland, England's northernmost county and relatively sparsely populated. It also hosts the Northumberland International Dark Sky Park. We spent a week up there, staying on a site on the edge of the Park and for most of the week had cloudy skies. On our last night, the sky cleared and I was able to get this image of the Milky Way. I had to contend with some light pollution from the town of Alnwick, but overall I was pleased with the result.

Whilst picking out this image, I also found one I had taken about 12 years ago in Central London, at the south side of Waterloo Bridge to be precise. At first glance, you could be forgiven for thinking that the two images are completely unrelated. But you haven't factored in Lord Byron. I had been attending an event nearby and decided to walk back across the river, mainly because the views from Waterloo Bridge, both upstream and downstream are iconically 'London'. I would often take a camera with me whenever I went into town because there could always be opportunities for photos. On this day, I stopped to look around and at the foot of some steps leading down to the South Bank complex, I saw this man sitting wrapped in a blanket next to a Banksy artwork, which itself had been defaced. Not everyone likes Banksy. At the time, we never really had to worry about things like GDPR, or rights of privacy. That said, it has never been an offence to photograph people, including children, in public places. As long as the images are not indecent, or the photographer is not harassing their subject or causing a public nuisance, it remains the case that no offence is committed. Nor does anyone have the right to demand that photographs are deleted. So, anyway, I saw the opportunity and I took it.

I've never shown this image before, so now with the passage of time I feel I can present it publicly. 

"She walks in beauty.." is the opening line of a poem of the same title by Lord Byron.

She walks in beauty, like the night

Of cloudless climes and starry skies;

and all that's best of dark and bright

Meet in her aspect and her eyes:

Thus mellowed to that tender light

Which heaven to gaudy day denies.

One shade the more, one ray the less,

Had half impaired the nameless grace

Which waves in every raven tress,

Or softly lightens o'er her face;

Where thoughts serenely sweet express,

How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.

And on that cheek, and o'er that brow,

so soft, so calm, yet eloquent,

The smiles that win, the tints that glow,

But tell of days in goodness spent,

A mind at peace with all below,

A heart whose love is innocent!

Lord Byron.

Someone with more knowledge than me of the works of Byron, or even of Banksy, might be able to say why this piece was captioned with a Byron poem. But I will say this: Byron was clearly infatuated, and he also enjoyed looking up at the stars on warm summer evenings. So there you have it; justification in poetry. Beyond that, I only take the pictures; don't expect great analysis.

Whenever I look at this image I wonder what became of the man. Living on the streets of London is tough and it's not exactly an ambition anyone sets out with in their youth. One wonders what misfortune or lack of opportunity befell him - and countless others - that he should end up living under a bridge in one of the world's wealthiest cities. There, but for the grace of God, go I.