Another of Hebden Bridge’s resident birds makes a reappearance on the blog — 8/11/15 was the same Muscovy duck, for instance. Not that it looks very happy about it today. Perhaps it’s just glum about the gloomy weather, the same as the rest of us.
A few minutes after she left the house this morning, Clare felt moved to phone me and say: “If you want a photo of the day come and get one of the yarnbombing done on the sundial”…. So you see, I do occasionally listen to her. And a very fine yarnbombing it is.
Back at home — for a couple of days. Time to look around and see what’s going on. This is new…. surely a portrait of Humph the Hebden Heron or one of his homies. But diminished by the red signage, so important they stuck it on twice…
One of those highly uneventful days when even everyday scenes are hard to come by. Still, the sun shone, and on such a day, drifting along the canal has a certain appeal, whether you’re human and have to use artificial contraptions to do so, or a goose, who can just use what nature provides.
At age 16 Joe has his first, but doubtless not last, bout of major school examinations — the GCSEs. The first week is done — the whole show lasts about another month yet, though. Today’s revision schedule: Physics. But we did let him out to go to the cinema later.
Buskers have been around longer than most professions. We used to call them minstrels, but the whole singing for one’s supper thing is much the same as it was in the time of King Arthur. Fishmongers have been around for a while too.
This is a rare photowhack — the only photo taken today.
Back in Hebden Bridge. In the afternoon, a sudden storm, but with enough sunlight around to make the drops glisten and shine: beautiful, but not if you were out in it. This is taken from the shelter of home.
Another day for spring foliage to fill up the bandwidth. 2,803 days in and there are still some corners of the home town worth depicting. The bridge has been here since 1510, or thereabouts, and seems good for a while yet. Whether the same is true of the photographer, who knows…?
Plans to minimise my time in Manchester while on sabbatical have not been successful this week (or next). The weather turned during the day, as well, and it was quite cool and rainy by the evening. A pleasant morning on HB station though: just the latest in a number of occasions where the arrangement of fellow passengers on the platform has interested me.
Was up early to catch a train for a Good Friday walk in the Lake District. Had stupendous weather and lots of nice photos from that will eventually appear on my other blog. But today’s picture isn’t from among them, because this one needs to be seen…. A deer, a very young stag (going on those first brave attempts at antlers), on the side road that parallels the canal for a little while, by the railway station. Astonishing sight so close to town, 6.35 in the morning or not. We both stood stock still for a while staring at each other and he decided he would let me get the camera out. Then he trotted off back down the road — I hope to safety.
Being 42 