Six weeks ago I photographed the Druid Order’s spring equinox at Tower Hill. The Order has met the spring on this hill since 1956, and they were going to do it again whether I was there or not. I shot fifty-five frames over three hours - the procession through the City, the small press of fellow photographers, the circle on the hilltop, the pub afterwards. I came back from the day with the suspicion that I had shot too many frames of the procession itself and not enough of the people inside the robes, which is what visiting the same ceremony each year is supposed to teach you. I did not have, on the day, a single frame that I knew was the picture.
That came in the edit, six weeks late.
Yesterday afternoon I sat down to build the page and walked through every frame in the order I had shot it. About forty in, I stopped at one I had no specific memory of taking. Frame L1021226. A square, made on a side street of the route. Three of the Druids walking left to right past three pub frontages: Wetherspoons, Traditional Pub, Traitors Gate / McMullen. A white Waymo self-driving Jaguar at the kerb in front, the roof sensor turning. The chalkboard inside Traitors Gate offering fish and chips, steak frites, burger and fries.
I had not registered any of that on the day. I was halfway down the side street, watching the procession, and I made the frame. The Waymo was foreground only because it stood between me and the figures. I did not consciously include the chalkboard. I did not think about the layered pub names. The frame was an editorial accident I had not earned.
It now carries the pull-quote of the entire Carriers page: Wetherspoons, Traitors Gate, a Waymo self-driving Jaguar at the kerb, and the Order walking past. Three Londons in one frame. The picture at the time and the picture six weeks later are not always the same picture. Returning to the work with fresh eyes is how the frames you took without quite knowing why find their place. The Druids who carry the spring equinox to the same square mile every year understand a version of this: the hour itself is not always when the meaning lands. Sometimes the meaning needs the year to walk back around.
The next time I edit a ceremony, I am going to wait longer than I think I should before I look at the frames at all.
