To conclude a very good weekend in Brighton…. The half-marathon is finishing off behind me (with the wife due in at any moment) but I have pictured that before, so here is a different scene, one of the city’s most famous buildings, crowned by soaring seagulls, which seems appropriate….
Some urban rather than natural architecture again today, on a pleasant sunny morning in Manchester. It’s easier to get pictures of mountains in their correct perspective — for architecture shots you really need to be fifty feet up in the air on a crane, something I don’t have access to. But never mind.
I’ve given up trying to get any truly decent action shots at football matches, I can never do it. With this one I was trying for symmetry and to capture that mother-of-pearl sky. Decent day out today — except for the result. Well, I guess our unbeaten run had to come to an end at some point.
The roof nearest the camera is that of my house. I suppose the architecture of my immediate locality is pretty offbeat, but after 15 years here I no longer really think about it. This is about as early in a day as we get sunshine during the winter, as when the sun is low, it does not get above the hillside to the east in the morning. From mid-November to mid-February each year we have to wait until the light gets round to this side of the building — then enjoy our nice, better-lit afternoons.
Whatever happens to football, and/or to my club, I hope I never lose the simple enjoyment of just going to a match, and that moment of excitement as you see the ground ahead; particularly for night matches when the floodlights pour illumination onto the as-yet-unseen pitch. I’ve posted before about how Ewood Park, Blackburn is a good, old-school ground (one of only three used in the first ever football league season in 1888 that is still used today — trivia fans may note that the other two have also appeared on this blog over the last five years); I like the terraced house which gets into this shot on the right.
That’s three seasons in a row that the ground’s appeared on here but if our clubs keep going in the direction they are doing, it won’t be on again for a while. Blackburn Rovers 2, Brighton & Hove Albion 3. We are top of the Championship tonight…. they are at the other end of the table.
I’ve been working too many Sundays lately — but today was not one of them. Spent most of it doing very little, so today’s shot is just a scene from the distinctive locality, houses caught by the low sun on another pleasant and mild day. Your morning game — how many chimney pots can you count? I reckon it’s approaching 50.
Number n+1 in this series, ‘Blokes on Rooves’, and indeed, n+1 in the series ‘Blokes on this particular roof’, only for once I can’t find the older picture to put in a link to it, so you’re just going to have to take my word for it. I like the lines on this picture, the general pattern.
The Contact Theatre was built in 1999 and adjoins the Ellen Wilkinson Building where I work, helping close off my courtyard (you’ve seen that often enough), but it is a separate entity from the university. It focuses on youth theatre and involves young people in programming and hiring decisions, apparently. The picture also demonstrates that we have reached that time of year where I get to leave the office and it’s already dark. So be it… December it is.
The line of pylons that reaches over the railway line around Mills Hill station has of late been the subject of building works, as seen here. So this photo fits itself into two vague categories of picture that I have been nurturing recently: blokes high up doing their jobs (like this one) and pictures of power installations taken at high speed from trains, as depicted last week. Do pylons count as ‘architecture’ (a more formal category of picture on this site)? Yes, I think they should. They dominate the landscape as much as any other engineered structure.
Apologies for the delay in posting. Mac fell into a coma on Monday morning. But some TLC from the Genius Bar has restored it to full health. Back on Monday, it was another lovely day in Manchester. Here’s the relatively monumental Sam Alex building (as most people on campus call it), named after a former professor of Philosophy at this august institution. I like the rim-lit shadowy figure to the right.
Being 42 