They’ve still got a couple of minutes before the departure of the 12:21 from Leeds to Doncaster. But we run anyway in these situations, don’t we; almost instinctively. It takes a certain confidence not to do so.
One would like to think the Great Fear of 2020-21 is coming to an end, but I suspect absurdities like this stairway to remain, possibly permanently. An attempt to enforce ‘social distancing’ leads to everyone crowding closer together than they would otherwise have done. But it makes it look like Authority has Done Something, and we will probably never be permitted to go back and say — you know, all that stuff actually had no effect at all, did it? Too late now.
It’s always nice to see Canal Street, in the centre of Manchester, actively live up to its name. Lock open, rather than lockdown. Perhaps I could have stood a bit to the left and made this a more symmetrical shot, but never mind. The guy at the gate has busted the photographer.
Is the title of this post self-referential? Perhaps. This advertising truck might well have been gainfully employed over most of the last 14 months and tonight was just having a break — but somehow I doubt it. The bird doesn’t care either way. A somewhat gloomy photo, but that epitomised the day: we have lost the sunshine that we’d been enjoying for much of April.
I went out on a walk today: the last day, officially, of my Easter break. I saw no reason to stay at home. I don’t know quite why I like this picture, except that it was one of those that worked out as anticipated; this is the picture I hoped it would be when I pressed the shutter. The road is the A1, a mile or so east of the town of Chester-le-Street, in County Durham.
Even the traffic warden was somewhat bemused by this saloon ‘parked’ not only on one of the slip roads to the Mancunian Way, but across a pedestrian crossing. However, I suspect the true owners of this car are not — at this point in time — aware of it being parked there. Hey, maybe they’ll beat the tow-truck.
A walk around the Todmorden area today gave me the chance to see from above the railway line on which I travel frequently to Manchester. The settlement is certainly packed into this narrow valley at this point, isn’t it. But the railway somehow dominates, like it’s the thing that really controls the transport here.
This is the fourth shot in a row taken outside of Hebden Bridge. The last time that happened was over Christmas, in Norfolk — and the time before that, early October. This says a lot about the last few months.
I don’t know, one gets the chance to go out for a change, and then the car breaks down on the motorway on the way back. But everyone with whom I then had to engage to sort this out, did indeed get it sorted out, so credit to them all.
The topography of my home town is such that many of the paths that wind up and down the particularly steep hillsides have never been turned into roads. This one winds up the steep slope of Lee Wood, past the cricket club to the road at the top. I took it today for variety: expect a lot of ‘local’ colour at this time, ‘cos local is all that’s on offer.
This monstrosity spent the day plonked outside the house, squatting on the pavement, a metal pile of unfriendliness. Want to walk up Keighley Road? Naaah… sod you. There should be a law against it…. Oh, there is: double yellow lines. But those are clearly of concern only to wimps and lefties.
Being 42 