strange time in my life

I always thought that that photograph that our mutual friend had taken of you was in the little path between our campus and the road beneath it, the one where you had to cross over the little stream and we crossed it once with Camilla and you had a big bag and I didn't offer to carry it and I felt so guilty about it for the rest of the day. Anyway, that photograph of you with the blue mac on and the legwarmers, I thought it had been taken on that path, all of this time, what has it been, two years? eighteen months? something like that; but I just looked at it again and it seems that it wasn't there at all, and that I was wrong all this time. I looked and thought that it was the woods by my house where I live now, the ones I walked to that time after my grandpa had died and I wrote about what I wanted my business cards to say and how I wanted them to have grey writing instead of black, I looked at the photo today and I thought that that was where it had been taken. But I was wrong about that too because you have never been there, and especially not with her, our mutual friend, well, you might have been but it's very unlikely, and if you were there then surely it would have been me that would have taken you there so I would have known about it. Anyway it must have been somewhere in the Cornish countryside where we all used to live and look at each other closer than the cameras around all of our necks did.