I’m sitting here trying to work, but because my work is visual, I keep needing to dip into my archives. So in I dive, searching for an image. There it is! I find it, result. So the picture jerks a memory. The memory involves a person, place or thing that urges me to reach out and say ‘hi’ to a special person who I am reminded of when I remember the moment I took the picture. So I email them, reaching out and saying hello and sending love across the continents.  Ping. Back it comes, in my inbox. And half an hour later I am glad I have made contact, glad to have shared a short moment, a memory, a time that only can be recalled and remembered between me and that person I was there with when I took that picture. But somehow I seem to be back where I started an hour ago and wondering what I was meant to be doing. The phone rings. The dog barks. Oh gosh look at the time. Squash o’clock.

Here is the image that I was distracted by today, taken on the island of Assateague on East Coast USA. I was staying with a wonderful friend Sue Sheridan with whom I have just reconnected. Sue gave me a warm welcome in Washington DC, my first port of call on a 5 week trail around the USA in search of many of the world’s most wonderful breeds of horse. The day I took this was miserable, as you can tell. A wash out. A murky and wet wash out. I was drenched, water cascading off the tip of my camera. I’d already changed clothes once in the car, and had by now resorted to rolled up soggy trousers and bare feet, plastic bag attempting to protect my poor old Nikon. So now I have digressed, written to Sue, been distracted by the desperate need to blog about the Art of Procrastination, I really must get back to the task in hand…or the tasks, should I say.