So the bad news is, nobody handed in my camera at the airport. The good news is, my forward-thinking husband downloaded all the pictures. Hoorah!
I’ve learnt a very big lesson this weekend: firstly, always back up your photographs on to the hard drive but more importantly, my photographs are incredibly important to me.
If you asked me what one thing I’d rescue from a fire aside from my loved ones, it would be the (updated) hard drive which is, I’ve come to realise, a sort of diary of my life and mine and Frank’s life together.
I spent the weekend in Copenhagen trying to forget about the fact that I’d left the camera in the airport but found my mind drifting back to it, trying to recall all the pictures on there. It was as if my memories were all of a sudden groggy and out of focus, that I couldn’t quite recall all the details that those photographs had captured.
Looking at them appear on the computer screen when we got back home was such as relief and brought so many memories flooding back; tiny details about the way the light hit the Grand Canyon, or the hilarious time we had mocking up our own ‘fashion shoot’ in the middle of the desert (I’d love to see the reaction of the person who has my camera and scrolls through those – they’ll think we’re insane!).
I don’t think a glass vial full of desert sand or a Grand Canyon map would allow me to remember those details but a photograph can. I would have been devastated if I had lost them all.
If I have one treasured possession from now on, it will be that hard drive. And I will make sure I back up my photographs so I never again have to feel like I did this weekend.
You can take all my possession but don’t my photographs.