The other morning, pressed to help get my equipment ready so that I could go photograph an assignment, my eldest child Nora begrudgingly agreed to erase a set of image files that I had edited and delivered days earlier from my compact flash card. En route to work, when I discovered my 16 gig digital card was now empty- well- distressed might be a mild way to put it. My daughter, instead of deleting some files had erased all the files. There were dozens of images that I had yet to transfer and all of these photographs were now lost. Gone.
I am in the throes of remembering what was on that card and what's been dispatched to oblivion. (Once, years ago, photographing my husband and our daughter Sarah, nestled by our climbing rose in full bloom, the camera's counter went to 40. On a 35mm camera that is a very bad sign as it means that the film never wound through. So, I have witnessed these phantom feelings before.)
Were there some lovely images on that card? Absolutely. And I am heartbroken to some definable extent. However, it's a loss that I'll be able to bear- no matter how nutty it makes me feel. And as losses go, one not destined for the books.
Annoying however. Most definitely.