Not My Pictures of Morocco

When Dave and I walked Olga to the cemetery on Friday, we passed a blue Ikea bag sitting on the sidewalk next to some rubbish bins. The bag contained numerous framed photographs. The rubbish had already been collected, but perhaps the trash guys didn't take the bag because they weren't sure whether it was trash. I said to Dave, "If that bag is still sitting there when we go home, I'm picking it up."

Well, it was, and I did.

When I got home, I looked through the six framed pictures. My intention was just to donate the frames -- black Ikea frames mostly in good condition -- to a charity shop. But I was surprised to find that all the images appeared to depict Morocco.

As many of you know, I lived in Morocco as a U.S. Peace Corps volunteer from 1992 to 1994. Of course it's just coincidence, but it felt like these pictures -- which admittedly could be of another North African country like Algeria or Tunisia -- had been sent especially to me. A gift from the Universe.

(I've previously blogged some of my favorite Morocco pictures from my own camera.)

I don't think these images are very old. They were printed by Snapfish in 2017, according to the back of the photos. But the frames were very dusty, which makes me think they've been sitting in a closet or some other storage space for a while.

I cleaned up the frames -- I had to discard one, which was broken beyond repair -- and I left the pictures in them. I may go ahead and donate them in the hopes that someone else will like them as much as I did. In any case, they have a second chance and hopefully won't go to a landfill.