Forgot your password?

We just sent you an email, containing instructions for how to reset your password.

Sign in

  • "In our village lived a photographer that had a tripod with four legs," my grandfather tells me. "If you had one of those today, you'd be world famous!"

    "One Easter the whole of the neighbourhood gather together to have a picture taken. The wives would want to display all the food they've made and It took half an hour to sit them. Then the photographer would go behind his big wooden camera, pulled the black cloth over his head and make chirping noises. "Look at the birdie inside the camera, look at the birdie." Only when the whole room went silent and everyone stared at the lens would the photographer make a "click" noise and the picture was taken."

    I make a remark about his memory that in those days the cameras didn't have shutters that made "click" sounds, just a cap on the lens and a silver plate in the back. He insists: "Yes, but If you had one of those today with four wooden legs, you'd be world famous."
    • Share

    Connected stories:


Collections let you gather your favorite stories into shareable groups.

To collect stories, please become a Citizen.

    Copy and paste this embed code into your web page:

    px wide
    px tall
    Send this story to a friend:
    Would you like to send another?

      To retell stories, please .

        Sprouting stories lets you respond with a story of your own — like telling stories ’round a campfire.

        To sprout stories, please .

            Better browser, please.

            To view Cowbird, please use the latest version of Chrome, Safari, Firefox, Opera, or Internet Explorer.