A Photograph; a Vivid Picture Bearing a Real Life Story Within

It is a rather ordinary photograph one would say; rectangle-shaped, black-and-white, slightly faded and wrinkled by time which, although, does not obscure its beauty. It captures the Beatles, yes, that music band. Those four young men who were rocking around the world in the 1960s. The photograph captures them posing for a picture for a magazine cover perhaps. Their look is concert-like. Their expression is full of eagerness to finally stand on the podium and see this massive audience breathing only for their music. I adore the Beatles, I really do. This little treasure is of great importance to me, far away from ordinariness. I have it framed in my bedroom. It is one of the most favourite and precious things I possess.

I got the photograph on one warm spring day. I remember this day rather clearly. My grandma found it in one of her cardboard boxes where she stored her photographs. Usually, we rummaged through those boxes during springtime. It was time for our big house cleaning after the cruel and cold winter eventually disappeared into spring. We were sitting on the floor, more precisely on the richly patterned, red carpet which lay in front of the wooden chest of drawers. In that massive, beautifully carved wooden piece of furniture, my grandma had all her boxes stored. There were many of them, stuffed full of photographs. We were both astonished by finding such a precious piece among the endless amount of, mostly black-and-white, photographs.

“Where did you get it, grandma?”

“It must have been sometime in the late 1950s. 1958 perhaps. We went with your grandpa to Austria for holiday. I can’t believe I’ve never told you this before. Let me tell you now then.”

I made us each a cup of coffee and waited with excitement for my grandma to begin. It has always been one of my favourite family stories. My grandma stored plenty of polaroid photographs related to this story, which made me remember it rather well.

It was a warm, yet windy day since they both had their jumpers and scarves on. There were still remains of snow cover somewhere. They were driving through those entrancing landscapes with mountain views, so peculiar to the Austrian countryside. An endless space of freshly grown, bright green grass was surrounding them on all sides. Flocks of sheep, with their coats richly grown still after the cold winter, looked like subtle white spots in the distance. Beyond all this was a massive mountain range rising its peaks, brightly snow-covered, up to the highest skies. The sun was shining brightly upon this marvelous view. On their way appeared a wooden cabin, not a big one. Next to it stood a life-size statue of a violet cow with white spots and ‘Milka’ written on the side. It stood close to the road, so they stopped by, just for a while they thought. Unfortunately, it was shut. However, it was a wonderful day which would be a shame to spend in the car, so they went looking around. In a while, they were standing on a hill with such captivating panorama underneath, breathing everything in. My grandpa used his binoculars, which he had got for Christmas the previous year, to watch the landscape in the distance. He must have been more than happy to have them on him. They both grabbed their jackets from the car and went for a walk. After a while of admiring the surroundings, they came down the hill to a valley, where they spotted something like a village. By the road in front of it, there was a big sign saying ‘WELCOME.’ The road was lined with wooden houses and massive trees. In front of the first wooden house was another life-size statue of a cow placed, this time with a massive metal bell on it. It was an adorable place. After hours of rambling around, they headed back to the car. When they came up the hill, they noticed the cabin was open. There was a wooden sign above the door, saying ‘SOUVENIR SHOP.’ My grandma went in, leaving my grandpa outside with his binoculars. She greeted a young lady at the till and looked around. It was an adorable shop full of postcards, various other souvenirs and ‘Milka’ chocolate bars. Despite how small the cabin appeared to be from the outside, it had a large inventory inside. Leaving the shop with a bag full of things, my grandma caught a glimpse of something by the window. Behind a rack with postcards, she spotted this rectangle-shaped old photograph on the windowsill. It was a bit dusty and placed on a pile of books.

“How much is this one, please, young lady?”

“Oh, this one, you can take it if you want, it’s been lying here for ages now. I think someone must have left it in here. But it’s lovely isn’t it?!”

“It is! Thank you, have a lovely day.”

Outside, the sun was shining. It was a lot warmer than when they arrived. Resting on the bonnet and eating sandwiches, my grandparents were still staring at the photograph. They both were captivated by its singularity. They stayed there till after the sunset. The sky above them had got almost magical when being full of red clouds. In the warmth of an embrace, they fell asleep on the bonnet of the car.

My grandma finished her story with a smile on her face. Being too blown away by the story, I found the rest of my coffee cooled.