The First Photo I Ever Took, and the first of My Taid

This is the first photograph I remember taking, and its was of my grandfather, my Taid. It was captured on a Kodak 110 camera, a simple little thing, and shows him standing in the greenhouse he built, tending to his beloved plants.

Harry Pierce Williams was a remarkable man. A carpenter by trade, he was also a master gardener, a passionate conductor of local choirs, active in his local Chapel, and a proud, unwavering Labour Party supporter (back when the party still burned a deeper shade of red). He was passionate about Welsh Culture and the Welsh Language, he loved Welsh Poetry and wrote lyrics for songs. He smoked a pipe, wore thick rimmed black reading glasses, and constantly whistled through his teeth when working in his workshop or greenhouse.

I absolutely doted on him, he was my hero and I cant ever remember a time not laughing in his company. He gave me my first pen knife, he introduced me to Welsh poetry, and he instilled in me a deep grounding in doing the right thing, and paying attention to doing things well. Sadly he passed away suddenly when I was just eight years old, and it was devastating. I’ve missed him every day since.

So why have I shared such a poor image of my Taid? Technically, this photo is a mess. It’s blurry, off-centre, and the lighting is all over the place. But to me, it’s perfect. It holds a memory so vivid it almost breathes.

I remember intentionally framing the shot with the grey garage door on one side, behind the door was his carpentry workshop, and the greenhouse on the other side, where he spent his quiet hours among the flowers. That contrast captured who he was, skilled, thoughtful, quietly creative.

Holding this photo in my hand feels like holding a piece of him. It takes me back to being in his company, listening to him whistle, and remembering that assuring and generous ‘smile’.

There’s something almost magical about prints like this. Photography can be difficult, frustrating even, but in moments like this, it reminds me why I fell in love with it in the first place. It lets us hold on to what matters.