Another low-contrast kind of day, spent at home working, little to see other than what the local landscape, weather and birdlife allow. In the end, this was the day’s best combination of those factors.
This picture was taken — at least, according to the time stamp allocated by my camera — at two seconds past noon, so here we are with exactly 12 hours, or 1/730th, of the year to go. As it was Sunday and we had a dinner date at a pub above Todmorden, there was no excuse not to get out, have some exercise and enjoy the scenery. (The sheep do this every day, of course.) This kind of thing is a significant contributor to the fact I’m still living here in Calderdale after 21.5 years.
And so ends 2023, not a bad year at a personal level I suppose but no particular changes were noted, for better or worse — what enthuses me and what vexes me today are all more or less the same as they were a year ago, or indeed two. The rest of the world, well, that seems able to screw itself up without my active intervention. This blog will continue — generative AI-free — as long as I still have something to document. My favourite picture of the year? Probably the gloriously camp duck captured on 20th September. Getting that salmon leaping the falls in Scotland on 11th July was quite a coup, and Clare, taken the following day (12th July) insists she get the award for ‘best human’. Happy New Year to you all.
This is a totally crap picture, but it epitomises the day, entirely. The sunshine of Boxing Day was not sustained. We left Dundee at about 9am, I gritted my teeth and drove, and we staggered into Morecambe at about 2pm — an hour longer than it should have taken — battered by high winds, driving rain, surface water, low visibility, the lot. This is taken somewhere in the wilds of the Southern Uplands, in the indefinable watershed country between Tweeddale and Annandale, when I just had to pull over and stop for a few minutes.
Once more I was in the work cocoon — specifically, the email cocoon — all day, only emerging as the skies looked like this. Another day, then, where there was not much to photograph, but at least it’s the weekend.
Continuing a theme, but why not — this was definitely the nicest thing to be seen today, and it didn’t even require leaving the house.
I did get better pictures today but none which epitomised the day quite so well. Garth Hill became County Top #2 of the weekend, but the weather on its summit was, to coin a phrase, utter shite. What this chair was doing up there I have no idea but perhaps it had just been blown there from someone’s garden half a mile away. For the full tale of woe see my other blog.
The Cardiff Bay barrage was built in the 1990s, at huge expense, specifically to get rid of what were perceived as unattractive mudflats, and thus prepare the land for colonisation by the Great God Commerce: which seems to have subsequently taken place. It’s not an unattractive piece of engineering, I guess. Out there is the island of Flat Holm, which still counts as Wales, so this isn’t another shot that depicts the land of more than one country. (There have been three of these: two with England and Wales (both around the Dee Estuary), and one with England and France.)
Sometimes you just stumble across places. This old, ruined mine sits above Blaenavon in the south Wales valleys; I found it while bagging my latest County Top. I would argue it was not only the most interesting but also the most attractive thing about the day. There have been points of time in the past where something like a quarter of the iron and steel production of the entire world was based around south Wales. Believable as that stat is, this is what’s left.
Today didn’t quite work out as planned, but nor am I complaining. A glorious morning. The sheep seem quite contented about it, too.
Rainbows are, technically, optical illusions, but they are illusions that the camera also sees. This one was definitely touching earth somewhere around the Old Lees Road/Hurst Road area of Hebden Bridge this afternoon. The geese wouldn’t have seen it though; they were flying in the opposite direction.
Being 42 