This piece of equipment isn’t quite as fearsome as it looks, because in fact there are three of them lined up along row O of the stalls of the Palace Theatre, Manchester, filming the performance we came tonight to see. The ten rows behind them all had to be reseated, which is proof, I guess, that the BBC can stomp in and do what they like….
Of course the houses aren’t really in the treetops. Or are they? This is Hebden Bridge…
I’m sure there are lots of things that could be better about this picture, but hey, it ain’t easy to capture wild red deer in England — there really aren’t very many of them, and they really don’t like people. This was my best attempt. I like the way the two bucks are clearly keeping an eye out for anyone who might be messin’ with their does, so to speak.
A well-lit moment this afternoon. I guess if I keep doing this long enough, and try not to repeat myself, there exists some theoretical point in the future at which the whole town of Hebden Bridge will have been documented.
For all that it represents the time of the year’s decline into old age there is something fine about autumn. It permits us to see the ways the cycle of life keeps itself turning. Fungi come into their own, consuming what they can before the cold freezes things up entirely.
Joe and I made one of our occasional trips to the Shay today to see Halifax v. Woking. Had never previously seen Halifax lose a match in 12 games spread over the last 18 years or so, but today they lived up to their league position and were comprehensively stuffed 3-0. Hence, the title of this post is somewhat ironic. Perhaps they would have done better had the furry bloke at the back been on from the start.
Little seems to have happened to the site of the old BBC building since the structure was removed three years ago. My confident (but wholly ironic) prediction that it might get turned into eco-friendly affordable housing seems as far away as ever.
If this shot illustrates anything it at least proves that I do occasionally get my lazy butt into Manchester before 9am in the morning. And that at such times there, the light can be very good.
The rules I set myself on this blog (which are available on the ‘About’ page) state that I do not pose or stage photos, nor do I light them beyond what illumination is available naturally. These are true, but tonight, while stopping off for a pint on the way home from work, this woman was working on setting up some jewellery-making class in the White Lion, and complaining that she didn’t have good enough light. I noticed that the spotlights above were adjustable so made the necessary changes to help her out — then asked if I could take her picture because the light had suddenly come so good. So I suppose this one is half-lit. But one can bend the rules occasionally to help others.
When in Liverpool, go see the Mersey. Although in the end that’s just marketing of a sort. After all, no one has a sudden urge to go see the Mersey when they visit, say, Stockport (another town that this river runs through).
