The photo opportunity was gone as quickly as it had arrived. He stood
there motionless, looking up at one of the signs. The one about banknotes,
cards, medals and coins. There was a beautiful incongruity in his manifest
interest (curiosity?) in this particular shop. On the one hand he was doing his
job diligently on this Victorian-era shop-frontage-filled pedestrian street:
keeping the place clean. On the other hand, for a fleeting instant he allowed
himself to become part of the small group of people venturing out in London’s
West End after a heavy downpour. For that one second he was no longer binman,
or as our more politically correct times dictate, rubbish collection officer or
suchlike.
Cecil Court’s eerie silence was welcomed after an afternoon on which the
only sound had been that of the summer rain. Once again, I was walking down
alleyways, cul-de-sacs and narrow roads. Once again I wanted to “get lost”. Happening
on the “Binman on Cecil Court” (and
would that not be a fantastic name for a picture if I had managed to take it?),
I felt as if I had to capture the innocence on his face as he scanned the displays on
the window. I wondered if he was acquainted with the history of the place. I certainly
was not.
Talking to one of the staff at one of the many bookshops lined up along
the pedestrian-only street I found out a little about Dickens, Jewish refugees
and renowned Hambling’s model railway shop.
I came out of the shop looking for “binman” but it was gone. The moment,
that is. The “photo moment” was gone. “Binman” was still there, skipping around
puddles, doing his job diligently: keeping Cecil Court clean.
© 2015
Photo taken by the blog author
Next Post: “Saturday Evenings:
Stay In, Sit Up and Switch On”, to be published on Saturday 24th
October at 6pm (GMT)
To often we neglect our binmen. Years ago, my brother swept streets to save money to go to university. Somehow he made (completely platonic) friends with all the women in the street, who gave him cups of tea, and cake, and - just once - sausage and chips. I suspect he did it just by being cheerful - knowing him he was probably singing while he worked. In Cecil Court he'd have been glued to the window of the model railway shop!
ReplyDeleteThey do often get passed by without a glance. But without them and others like them society would go kaput quickly. Some shots sure fly by quick too.
ReplyDeleteI love the photo and would have probably checked out the model railroad shop... I only do model railroading under the Christmas tree, but I like all things train.
ReplyDeleteI suspect his story is as interesting as some of the others...
ReplyDeleteBinmen are such important (and underrated) people. Frequently invisible they must see a lot.
Thanks for your comments, especially the one about the photo. I know I am not a good photographer although I am proud of the photo that doubles as my blog banner. I took the photo in this photo with my mobile and since it's passworded, it takes me a couple of seconds to access the camera. That's how long it took the binman to look at the sign and carry on with his duties. Then, I went into a couple of the shops and when I came back out I caught him again looking at one of the window displays. By the time I managed to get the camera ready, the moment was gone again. :-)
ReplyDeleteGreetings from London.
The job of the artist is to make the invisible visible. And you've just done that.
ReplyDeleteMoments disappear quickly, don't they? But I do think that you captured it anyway, with both your words and with the pics that you did get. Lovely.
ReplyDeleteI absolutely love this photo! I so enjoy seeing store facades in different parts of the world!
ReplyDeletePhotography is as much luck as it is skill or art. News photographers will take dozens of shots, even hundreds, of the same basic scene, hoping one among them will capture the exact, right, perfect moment.
ReplyDeleteI enjoyed reading of your adventure, CiL, and would enjoy walking down this street some day.
Great photograph. It appeals to me and reminds me of time spent in foreign lands or towns. If I saw a street like that I was compelled to walk up one side and down the other.
ReplyDeleteHay que coger el buen momento y después de una lluvia la calzada se queda limpia y bonita para la toma.
ReplyDeletePD la catedral de la Habana sigue siendo hermosa muy sencilla por dentro, estar en la plaza es vivir la vida.
Un abrazo.
Not an unsung hero for a change. I often wonder how life would be as a street cleaner. Hard work, probably. But an utterly different perspective.
ReplyDeleteI love how you appreciate people others don't bother to see. This post reminds me of my son's summer job sweeping the sidewalks.
ReplyDeleteA wonderful anecdote, CiL...and how brilliantly you've captured the moment with utter clarity. I wonder what "Binman" was thinking as you watched him...I wonder what kind of a life he leads away from work. Much like the rest of us, I guess...a mixture of highs and lows, interspersed with the odd magical moment!
ReplyDeleteI must find this street one day, and people watch! :)
Have a great weekend.:))
La foto me ha encantado, saludos.
ReplyDeleteYou may not have been able to take his picture, but you captured the moment beautifully with your words.
ReplyDeleteyou have many bookshops? in my town there is ONE! A amall one :(
ReplyDeleteA wonderful anecdote, Cubano, I think it's better that you didn't get his photo. Your description is vivid enough and it's better to use the imagination.
ReplyDeleteIt certainly looks like he has done a good job. And your foray into the world of bookshops and the world of streets seems really quite wonderful. Thanks. k.
ReplyDeleteI love that photo - just brilliant!
ReplyDelete