One of those where the object of interest had turned at a junction and was trotting away from me in the distance before I realised how interesting it was. But I just about got the shot. That is the way to go, is it not. And this is the second horse-drawn hearse to appear on here, the first being in London back in January 2014.
This idea of ‘underuse’ has been a recurring theme lately — but there are obvious reasons for that, and it is going to become even more the case now that uni have decided that, after all, they would rather not teach face-to-face, ‘at least’ until the end of October. Which is, conveniently, after everyone’s arrived and paid their rent. Don’t blame me — I oppose the decision, and rather vehemently too. But it seems this opinion is now in the minority.
Halifax’s transport infrastructure seems to have become a recent theme. At least, this is a sign that I am still moving around the local area, including on a Sunday. I like the complexity of the layout here, the bendiness, but tied together by the point mechanisms.
This is a factual statement. The road past our house has been closed for weeks while some vague ‘improvements’ take place on the moors. But perhaps this shot is also metaphorical.
Either way I really hope the phallically-challenged moron who roared past this sign later at 60mph in his Porsche was actually heading for Keighley. To have seen his face.
Not sure that I have previously managed to categorise a post as ‘sport’ and ‘transport’ simultaneously. A shame the ball could not make it into shot as well…
I did try to go into Manchester today. The train got as far as Rochdale, where all services terminated thanks to a ‘points failure’. As I didn’t really care one way or the other, after a while of non-movement, I turned around and went back to complete my day’s work at home. It is a sign of my recent equanimity that it didn’t bother me. At least I got the chance for a photo. It doesn’t really look like anything has moved here in years, so it seems appropriate.
The 15:35 heads for Ravenglass station, beside the estuary of the river Esk. And then leaves again — without me on it — meaning, I am about to have a first night away from home in Hebden for 135 days, since my trip to Lincoln on March 10th. The walls of the valley were beginning to close in. Here, the vistas are much different. Variety is a good thing. It is good to be on holiday in this mad year.
I was resolved that today’s photo would depict a living person, after ten days of no one at all. And so it does, in part. Those of us still wishing to use the trains are doing so, casually.
I had to go into Manchester today to pick up some things. This is the 611th photo on this blog that has been taken in the city — but quite possibly the last for some time, unless things change radically. But as you can see, social distancing was maintained. What my feelings are about the steps currently being taken are not relevant here: like I’ve done for the last 3,130 days, I will just do my best to document what I see.
I’ve not been venturing very far from home in the last two weeks and this is a state of affairs that is due to continue for a while. I offer this view from Rochdale station as today’s pic, not for any particular reason, I just like the arrangement of the various lines and slopes. And the snow’s still around, as you see.
Being 42 