Sometimes what I find I never knew I had lost. I have even forgotten why suddenly one frame of a colour negative has appeared on my office floor. Because in the upper left it has a street numbering sign with the letter a as in “1560 a 1565”, my guess is that it is either in Spain or in Mexico.

I rarely take street photographs particularly in Vancouver where I live. I am sure that if I photographed an articulated B-Line Bus on Broadway and gave the result to one of my daughters or granddaughters they could make money with it in 30 years.

Often I write that with the loss of neon signs and the taking over of tall condos with gray, blue or green tinted windows in Vancouver, Fred Herzog would not be inspired to shoot anything here.

At the same time I know that if I boarded a plane to Mexico City, once there, I would be take street photographs. It would seem that just like nostalgia is for a place not where you live, the same applies to street photographs.

If I were Borges I could weave a story about the three old women in my photograph. All I can say is that my obsession with association makes me think of the Scottish pipe tobacco I used to smoke. It was called Three Nuns and it was advertised as “None Nicer”.

Perhaps my Rosemary with her better memory might have remembered. Now I find it almost uninspiring to think that I could take street photographs anywhere without her as company.