Milthorpe Markets

.

The heat is finally dissipating. Summer’s bush fire threat is over. The rain, at least hereabouts, has stopped.

I predict that the number of fields trips, camera in hand, will start to increase. How many can we squeeze in before fellow travelers decide its too cold?

Last weekend, we headed towards the mountains for the Milthorpe Markets. These are held twice a year and are run to support the local school. Gold coin donation on entry. Unprepared, I rummaged for the gold in the bottom of my purse with the intention of putting one in each pail held by eager school girls at the gate. I had three coins. There were four girls. Not a great start.

I was the novice in our party of three.

.

.

Every market has its own personality. Each sits on a continuum between the organically home-made and the commercially imported. Milthorpe is a middle of the range blend of small-time commercial enterprises with a scattering of the classic home-made stuff.

.

.

The throng of people made it difficult to bring back photos that evoked my experience of these markets. I’m not a street photographer. Instead, I opted for a technique that allows me to snap colourful images of the market stalls while avoiding people’s personal space. My family didn’t appear embarrassed, so hopefully my attempt to be unobtrusive succeeded. I hold the camera by my side, point it at the edge of the table and deftly press the shutter. There are, of course, a lot that are deleted when I review the results later in the day.

There are a few that are worth saving.

.

.

Perhaps it was the paintings at the recent Forbes art show that prompted me to think about texture. I’ve experimented with filters from time to time, but the results seemed forced, out of kilter, too gimmicky.

This time, I think the filters make a valuable contribution.

.

.

My sister bought a metalwork kookaburra. She put it outside in the garden.

Tonight, we heard a kookaburra laugh.