Neighbourhoods

Recovered possessions

I have recently finished a short booklet on a theme familiar to readers of this blog – lost possessions. It comprises a light-touch essay, illustrated with a range of photos, exploring the curious tradition whereby people pick up items that others have dropped in public places, and place them somewhere to optimise the chances of rediscovery by the owner. I’ve long been fascinated by these acts of anonymous consideration.

Co-editor Martin Dudley and I had an absorbing time selecting the images for the final cut: they include examples of sundry gloves, hats and scarves, but also a necktie, a vehicle registration plate, some shopping items and a notice about a lost i-Pod.

We’re considering setting up a page somewhere to accommodate those images we could not include, and for people to add their own. In the meantime, here’s one of those that got away… I was rushing home from the station one evening, burdened with luggage, when I saw this child’s hoodie draped over a bollard. I failed to take the time to take a proper image, and have regretted it since.

I promise you the photos in the booklet are of better quality, if not necessarily all quite so striking.

We’ve edited and designed it using the Bookleteer process, and I’ll post here again when it becomes available in a week or so.

 

Lost clothing

This morning I had a little part to play in taking an elderly lady from a home to her dentist. As we left the car park, I spotted a baby’s white boot on the wet ground. I know from experience how frequently those things get sprung off by recalcitrant sprogs, how annoying it can be to have to retrace your tired steps to recover them, and the expense that is sometimes involved if you are unsuccessful.

I snatched the shoe up and stuck it like a traitor’s head on the spiked railing alongside - but gently. The railings are black so it was highly visible. (I would proudly have taken a picture but my phone has snuffed).

This gave me the chance to explain to my companion that I recently began writing a long-pondered text about lost clothing, reflecting on the social tradition of picking things up and placing them prominently for a stranger one is never likely to meet.

About 40 minutes later we came back the same way and to our delight, the shoe had gone, presumably recovered with relief by parent or carer. I really like the anonymity of the sequence, when it works. And it happens all the time – especially in winter – all over the place, and proves quite nicely that people don’t have to receive thanks in order to repeat simple low-cost gestures of consideration.

As for the text, I'm working with photographer Martin Dudley and we hope to come up with a curious little illustrated booklet, which you can be sure I will mention here, in due course.

Lost booty

It's not just pirates have to look after their booty. Note how date, time and location are pretty specific for this sort of public declaration of loss. And we get a wee pic of the baby to admire as well. 'Small reward' it says at the bottom.

Good to know that little things still matter to some people. Sorry about the blurring, it was so cold, I really regret not taking a moment to get a better image.

How to thank your neighbours

I came across this in another neighbourhood, so I wasn't even aware that Poppy had been lost. Heck, I could be the last to know.