Another day with a photo that will fail to enter the world’s, or even my own, stock of Great Pictures, but it’ll be like this for a while, I’m afraid. It’s always a little worrying to come home and find an ambulance and police van parked outside the house, but whatever had been going on, it wasn’t at our place. These little moments of incident take place behind walls, and we see the outcome but never discover their origin.
At about 3.30am in the morning I was awoken by a distant but continuously ringing alarm down in town, and a sense that I could smell smoke, although both these things only reached the semi-concscious level of awareness. Having convinced myself that if there was smoke, it was external to our place, I drifted back to sleep.
In the morning, it became more apparent where all this was coming from: the La Perla restaurant in town burned down overnight. This morning they were still dousing the smouldering timbers, the town cordoned off as I walked past on my way to the station — so this was the nearest I could get for this bit of reportage. No one was hurt, but I imagine there are a number of people who today are extremely upset.
Like the shot four weeks ago, one saw the response this morning, without necessarily being aware of the emergency. There were a significant number of fire engines in town — five at least — and a sense of urgency displayed by the running fireman here, but nothing all that apparent seemed to be actually happening. It’s not as if I was being barred from the area.
Being 42 