The 365 project. A year of Archibald Photography in photographs.
January 8. Langlees, Biggar. When I was a boy, my closest friend lived at the end of this avenue of trees, a couple of miles from my house. I spent most of my summers and school holidays up here, just beyond this avenue. Countless times I would walk down here in the pitch black, often with the elements howling around my zipped-up parka hood, unable to see my hand when it was placed in front of my eyes. It was a psychological battle with my fear of what was in that oil slick darkness. This tree was the last one in the avenue and I always had to stop myself breaking into a run when I reached it. We had to write an essay at school on fear…and I wrote about this. My friend has his own tales of the avenue of trees. Funny…when I visited it today after many years it was almost welcoming. Not when it is dark, though.