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.
If it wasn’t for the distinctive topography of my home town, Hebden Bridge, I doubt I would have felt inspired enough to keep this blog going for 2,370 days. I do spend quite a bit of time here — some 40% of the shots are from HB. And, well, it does look rather good in the right light. I try to do it justice.
The weather remains glorious (sarcasm warning), thus provoking a wilfully uneventful weekend. The Mediterranean food stall at the Sunday market does its best in very non-Mediterranean conditions.
A day spent entirely at or in the vicinity of home was never going to be easy photographically, so let’s pick up some more of HB’s amusing graffiti to epitomise the day. Plenty of post-processing was needed to bring out the blue of the spray paint. But if only I could add the missing apostrophe without feeling like a total pedant.
I will start moving around the planet again at some point but for now I’m where I’ve been most of the last two and a half months, namely at home in Hebden Bridge, which can be littered with interminably extended building projects just the same as Manchester can. The building that used to be the “Hole In The Wall” pub has been belching rubble over the street outside for what seems like about three years now. I actually saw someone working there today — but that is a rarity.
Being 42 