Many years ago, a partner of mine and mistress of mirth mused that every road in the United Kingdom had its own ‘highway glove’, such was the prevalence of the single, forlorn glove on the roads of Devon.
Now living in Hartlepool some years later, nothing has changed my mind about her point of view. Nowadays, they aren’t just to be found on the nation’s roads, but in the country paths and beaches too.
I am convinced when you are unaware, they crawl out of your fleece pocket and leap to freedom, or slip off the back of the pushchair while you are distracted (which is easy with small children). It’s like they can’t stand being a pair, and one just has to leave to get some space and find themselves. They usually find themselves in my photographs.