9. Nov, 2016

The brief.

 On a warm summer’s day, I was sitting on my bench that overlooks the river when a car, occupied by an attractive lady of my age and what turns out to be her nephew, stopped in front of me. Alan and Sarah, for that is their names, enquired from me the location of Peter’s Pool. (Sounds like an Agatha Christie – get a grip Timms). Anyway, they were on the hunt for Peter’s Pool and were armed with a bunch of photographs of Sarah’s mum fishing on this spot in the 1930’s. I live on Peter’s Pool so I was able to help. I think the photo montage tells the story. (click on the photo for a larger view).