It's an odd thing the brain, is it not. How are visual memories stored? Let alone complex musical ones. It's incredible that I can listen to Ravel's La valse as I was doing this morning in my own head with all the string section, horns etc. Or maybe I hear it differently to other people . . . anyway it is all totally extraordinary.
Back to visual re-visitings. Along with all the other odd scraps of imagery in the drawers labelled strange but unimportant in my brain, I filed a new one on Monday when we went for a walk in one of our favorite 1970's parts of Limoux. It's a unremarkable estate, but oddly fascinating with its neat gardens and twiddly wrought iron white fences. We happened upon (Jane Austin moment) a massive rusty iron garage door about 20ft high. An old man stood in his neat garden looking fondly or possibly hungrily( I couldn't tell for sure) at a tiny white chicken in front of the brown/red rust door. We all looked at each other and smiled (not the chicken). The man said, 'he likes to walk, like a small dog in the garden'
That was it: unimportant, yet beautiful and deeply embedded in my memories now. Rust, white feathers, toothy smile, a walk on a warm day in summer 2009.
I have no photo of it, I might make a painting. Here's some more images from Cerbere, also important memory pictures.