I don’t claim that reality was quite as dramatic as this — I dropped the red filter on this one — but hell, who said digital photography had to always be about reality? I just massaged the raw ingredients, if you like. It’s something to pass the time while spending another day quarantined in the house. It seems I probably have German measles (rubella), by the way.
Day 888, so a neat day numerically, but I’m still laid low by whatever virus it is that has taken up residence in my body so my horizons have shrunk somewhat. What is this abstract? A footway sign, the flare from a street lamp, and steam from a neighbour’s heating vent illuminated by the traffic light behind.
Very useful on some Friday nights, after you celebrate the end of the week at the pub, or possibly at the Moshi Monsters movie at the cinema next door.
A reasonable proportion of the population of Hebden Bridge live on the water, specifically, the Rochdale Canal. These private moorings spread along the canal for a few hundred yards in the direction of Mytholmroyd (to where I was walking this morning, dodging the muddy puddles on the towpath).
Another very pleasant day, though I was stuck inside grading papers most of the day. But the view is compensation. I’d say I was lucky to have it, but you know, I’m not a total idiot. I mean, we did buy the place.
Glorious afternoon today, with sunlight streaming onto the allotments in late afternoon. Our neighbours (garden-wise) are much more organised than us. The green netting is evidence of that alone, but look — they have poultry. Why don’t we have poultry?
I know this is rather over-exposed and otherwise suspect technically and in terms of composition (you can’t see the bridge properly) — but I still think it’s OK. Taken on Old Gate, Hebden Bridge, this afternoon.
A regular Wednesday event in town. If you want to buy a guitar in Hebden before 9am on a Wednesday morning in January, this is the place to do it, clearly.
I’m still off work, still not much going on so only everyday scenes to work with, and I know that even then this isn’t a great photo. However, it does document the devastation wreaked on the hedge that runs between our garden (allotment) and the path next to it. It needed doing but still…
Another year, still here. But that’s a good thing.
Being 42 