Friday 10th July 2020, 5.25pm (day 3,242)
When the sun shines, we all deserve to perch on a fern somewhere and stretch out at 5.25pm on a Friday evening. Lockdown or no, it’s been a busy week. And butterflies have a lot still to do.
Being 42
Life, one day at a time
Category Archives: Daily Post
The ginnel
Thursday 9th July 2020, 12.10pm (day 3,241)
In Yorkshire parlance a ‘ginnel’ is a narrow, pedestrian alley, and this is a definitive example of the genre. Not in Hebden Bridge, but Sowerby Bridge, where I went today largely for something to do to break the monotony.
Mysterious writings
Wednesday 8th July 2020, 9.40am (day 3,240)
The message on the one side is clear enough — but the bin? More proof that others are starting to lose it thanks to lockdown? Or perhaps they have always been the same.
This is how I feel
Tuesday 7th July 2020, 3.50pm (day 3,239)
Well into our fourth month of paranoia and I (and this jackdaw) can’t be the only ones looking like this. I remain just about functional in a technical sense, but I’m just pointing my camera at things at the moment rather than being creative. There is so little to appeal about the world right now.
Ex-scarecrow
Monday 6th July 2020, 3.25pm (day 3,238)
The scarecrow itself is long gone. But its boots remain, like a sort of imprint, or memory. I doubt they’ll scare the birds off much. But then again, nor do scarecrows, particularly.
On the Wharfe at Wetherby
Sunday 5th July 2020, 2.55pm (day 3,237)
Plenty of rain over the last few days has swelled Yorkshire’s rivers, including the Wharfe: and high winds last night and today presumably have brought this big chunk of tree down into it somewhere upstream of the weir at Wetherby, which is where this picture is taken. For now, it waits here… doubtless to continue its journey toward the sea once the next swell takes it over the lip.
Cheers
Saturday 4th July 2020, 2.30pm (day 3,236)
It has been 105 days (March 21st) since I was last in a pub, and 6 more since the last time one featured on here.
But they’re back open. So a pint was duly raised in the Bay Horse, Oxenhope, Yorkshire, to celebrate this fact. And celebration it was: anyone about to come back with messages of doom and gloom in response, please don’t.
Smoke (something happening)
Friday 3rd July 2020, 11.50am (day 3,235)
Over the last 3,235 days of this attempt to document the rest of my life in pictures there have, of course, been plenty of days where I’ve just stayed at home and not really done much. But there hasn’t been such a concentrated run of such days, day after day after day where there is nothing happening outside. And on a day when it never stopped raining…. this swell of smoke, a bonfire presumably, really was about the most interesting thing seen all day (with apologies to the family).
By the end of this month we may have been able to visit a pub and go away for a few days. If you think either of these things is a bad thing… let’s just say I disagree with you.
21 years on…
Thursday 2nd July 2020, 6.25pm (day 3,234)
21 years ago today I did not walk down the aisle with Clare, because we didn’t get married in a church: instead the venue for our wedding was the Ashton Memorial in Lancaster. Either way… happy anniversary.
Man photographing (man photographing) puddle
Wednesday 1st July 2020, 4.25pm (day 3,233)
We are all starting to lose it. Why is he photographing this puddle? More to the point, why am I photographing him photographing this puddle? Which one of us is losing it more?
The sign is the added touch that will roughly date this scene for ever more.
