The view from my house. The picture was of the mists, with the mobile phone mast on the other side of the valley just peeking through. The heron (for that is what it is) flying over was an added bonus.
Get used to pictures from home. The whole moronic farce is kicking off again. If you’re an easy target, expect to be put back under house arrest soon enough.
Not my sticker. But I’m in agreement. I used to think my employer could be counted among the good guys, but recently they have used Covid as an excuse to strip us of a quarter of our team — and then told us, oh look, you will have more students in the coming year than ever. If I seem disinterested in my ‘career’ these days, there are reasons for that.
Hebden Bridge does have its verticals, and we don’t normally see the sight depicted here as our house lies a (scale) inch or so off to the left of this shot. This was taken from the other side of the valley, on the Heptonstall road.
Gnomon is one of those wonderful strange words use to name mundane things. In this case, the bit of a sundial that casts the shadow. This particular gnomon sits in the middle of St. George’s Square in Hebden Bridge, and was putting in a brief stint of duty as I took this shot — although this was about the only moment of sunshine in the afternoon. The shop behind — the full name of which you can probably work out — will be either a boutique or a café, as those are the only shops the town really has, these days.
“But how shall I know the day of my birth in future years, O Holy Seer of Signs?”
“Drew, stand beside the river and look for the day on which the sun sets between the two pillars. Thus shall you know it.”
I’m 51 today. This is now the tenth year of the blog. And life goes on, one day at a time.
I have been thinking about this, and have decided to declare this the one and only positive outcome of lockdown –‘this’ being the emergence of a UK pavement café culture. We don’t necessarily have the weather for it, but hey, pubs and restaurants can invest in some umbrellas, as they do elsewhere. On sunny afternoons like this one, it doesn’t matter, and we can give it a shot.
An innovative approach to keeping oneself, one’s beer and one’s smoking materials free from moisture. The weather could not decide what to do this afternoon.
The square reflected in the roundel, these posts standing outside the Shoulder of Mutton pub, happily reopened, after not just the c*r***v**** crap but the floods of Feb 9th as well. You see, we need economic activity here. Which is why this new ‘local lockdown’ has had no discernible effect at all.
This is a kind-of self-portrait: look closely enough into the mirror and I’m there in the background.
It is five years to the day since I took probably my favourite picture of this blog, and certainly the one I worked hardest to get — the one of the summit of Kilimanjaro. In 2020, such expeditions have become pipe dreams, although being fair about it, there have just been nine pictures in a row that were not taken on home turf. But I am back here in Hebden Bridge for a few days at least, and there’s work to get back to. Here, there at least remain toyshop owners with a sense of wry humour.
I too was having a day doing things around the house, but definitely do not share this guy’s head for heights.
