Lost - searching for home

This weekend I watched the film "Lion" in someone's garden, with a retiring collection being made to Tearfund.  I need to watch it again as for the last half I was fighting neck cramp that put me in bed for a couple wasted hours of Saturday morning.  Waking early and ramming breakfast so you can take painkiller is not my favourite way to wake up.  It's a beautiful, aching, well told, fabulously acted story of a boy who loses his family, his home, his roots and has his new roots in another place soil-shaken out so that he is compelled to find his background, his source.  Being a curious sort, and having missed half with poor concentration, I've ordered the book "a long way home" on which the film is based, from the nicely accommodating library.

I've just read about the importance of home on a friends' blog.  I'm a long time Devonian.  I used to have a beautiful photo on my wall which was taken by someone I loved - a photo of the stone marking a first war cemetery where so many of the Devons gave their lives.  The person I loved remarked that Devonians don't travel well far from home.  Which is true for me. 

I love the pinks of Devon.  "Red" Devon, with it's sandstone cliffs that feed into the pinky soil, the reddish tinge of brickwork, the crumbly browny reds of the Roman walls and the colour that cattle pick up when they are shin deep in Devon mud.  I grew up with a dad whose burr is nothing compared to the deep dialect richness of his mum and dad.  My Kentish mum couldn't understand them first off.  I know the ways around East Devon, the free parking, the hills and back ways, from childhood walks, school run/walks and a lifetime of being adverse to more adventurous travel!

I have been thinking about photographs this week.  My new manager trusted me enough to share her stunning photographs.  She has totally awesome talent and technique.  It took guts for me to share my not so good photos after that but I wanted to.  It inspired me to make a photocalendar for my newly acquired desk (after six rootless work weeks) for the new year.  And I realised how few I have taken this year.  Low photo count is usually a sign that I haven't prioritised any time and space.  And I am feeling dull and dry. About as dry as the yellowed grass was.  I could do with a season of rain. Time to get outside behind a lens and leave my books for evening joy!