Today was a hectic day of packing up belongings and placing everything into random boxes, where stress levels peaked and desperation for easier times was met with equal heighs. Now it is the end of the day, and I was just packing up my most important items, I realised that I have not looked at the photographs sitting on my DJI Mini 2 drone for a few months. It has sat idle, ignored, longing for the skies only to be met with the darkness of its bag it calls home.
I assume these were over spring, early spring to be more exact, when times weren't so fast-paced and I had the time and motivation to get out and still roam the random areas of the English countryside. This year, the sky has been full of a strong, very much visible haze that results in these really beautiful streaks of light that shoot across the sky as the sun begins to set. Though the haze is pretty evident throughout the day, particularly at night.
I suspect I roamed to a setting I have photographed before and remained curious, to fly the drone up high and see what was going on in the areas of construction. Empty, metallic, and far removed from its natural surroundings. It reminds me of the England I now know, where nature is lost, and homes and roads are welcomed. That no place truly feels isolated, and that it is now hard to truly feel within the depths of nature's grasp.
As everything goes into boxes of which I have no idea when they will be opened again, memories of prior moments are tucked away behind the clouds of the present. Taking reign over all else. Ignoring your wants and ambitions. I have no idea of what is to come next, and I don't know if I will ever see these locations again. The orange glow of an English sunset as the temperature cools. The infrastructure and signs of growth despite strong economic stagnation. Perhaps these too are inevitable to become distant memories.
