As it was on Wednesday, so it was tonight. April 2018 in the UK skipped over spring entirely and went from winter to high summer. A Friday evening, the sun was out, the usual suspects were in attendance.
A warm, sunny day: though those who were enjoying a cup of tea on the terrace outside the Old Gate pub had a rather dustier few minutes than they might otherwise have had, thanks to this guy. Dust and sun — always good for a photo, though.
Last day before the return to work, and fortunately, the weather seems to have relented (for now) and decided to give us a taste of spring. A day for a short walk in the woods then. I like the formal qualities of this shot, the way the parties on the other bank gather themselves into groups; though the two in the middle background seem to spoil it just a little bit.
Easter. A time to celebrate spring, a time of renewal and growth. A day for another few tons of grey slush to barrel out of the sky and drench and depress us all. This should be a tennis court in the park. Instead it’s a sea of crud that doesn’t even have the decency to be solid, at least then we could build a snowman.
The annual Good Friday hike up to Heptonstall took place, to see the Pace Egg play, but I didn’t get any decent photos of that. Looking back down and over the housing of the home town produced better results. Someone a couple of centuries ago decided it would be a good idea to build a town here and had to come up with some solutions to the difficult topography, and here we still are.
Another very uneventful, badly lit and photographically uninspiring day — but at least it marked my last day of work before a 10-day break. Expect… expect… well, not much out of the ordinary to tell the truth but at least I won’t be working until 9th April.
A train strike kept me at home so horizons were limited today, even though it was another fairly mild and pleasant one and it would have been nice to be up a mountain somewhere. Still at work though, for another few days before Easter. This is just a local scene then; I like the arrangement of things. A more placid view of this spot than on 9th July 2012, anyway.
I did make it into Manchester today, and home again — unlike those stuck on the M62 last night. My train to work passed over the gridlock on the motorway somewhere around Castleton. At home in the evening there were vague signs of a thaw but as one can see from this shot, it is putative at best. At least I’m getting out of here on Sunday. To the Arctic.
Clare would like to take some credit for this photo as she claims ‘she saw it first’. Consider it inspiration then…
OK, so, we have had a bit of snow. This is Old Town, above Hebden Bridge, but most of the place looks like this at the moment. Things were functional round here but I was glad I didn’t have to schlep into Manchester…. no, those pleasures await me tomorrow, unless I can find a reason to avoid it.
Back home again, my town strangely empty this afternoon. Perhaps everyone was hunkering down for the promised ‘winter apocalypse’ that is, at least according to the media, about to devour the entire Northern Hemisphere in a kind of Game of Thrones scenario. Well, it’s a little chilly that’s true, but I’m sure we’ll live.
