I went to Perranporth Beach yesterday to scour the cliffs for something inspiring to photograph in response to this challenge. I was a bit confounded by the word, ‘lost’ – there’s plenty of detail everywhere, but I couldn’t pin down anything that could be called ‘lost’ in it. Probably overthinking, as usual. I found some graffiti scratched into the cliff in 1965, and a tiny tunnel with bars over the entrance, but neither were exactly lost:
So I decided that this week’s challenge had stumped me. I went home, dropped the dog off and wandered into Reduth where it was St.Piran’s Day. A friend had suggested I take some photos of the event so they could potentially be used for promotional purposes, so I went off with the intention of taking images of the Cornish bunting, stalls, dignitaries and the miner statue bedecked in its lamb and flag costume.
When I got there, though, I was distracted by a team of drummers (I do hope the real collective noun for drummers is more exciting than that. A throb maybe?) in the centre of town making the most spectacular, hypnotic, entrancing noise. I sat on one of the plinths in the square and watched the drummers and the audience. As ever, my photography finger responds to people more than to anything else and I ended up taking a set of images pretty much entirely focused on the humans of Redruth rather than St. Piran’s Day in general. After I edited them I realised that what I’d done was to get lost in the detail. Duh.