Amongst other things that 2024 has lacked (like, my teaching, a ceasefire), I do not yet recall one of those ‘first day of spring’ moments: the kind of day, in England anyway, where it suddenly warms up, the sun starts shining and everything goes, ‘Hello….’. If it has already happened, I missed it. And 12/3/24 wasn’t it either.
A metaphor of some kind? Quite possibly. We are all waiting for something. But at least the sun was shining on Hebden Bridge station this morning.
Several public houses premises in and around Hebden Bridge have lain empty for years. This is the old Crown Inn in the town centre: at my back as I took this photo was Marshall’s Bar; neither of them made it through 2020 and have remained closed and empty since. Some pubs on the approach roads to town (like the Woodsman Inn) have been lying derelict for two decades now. Yet the contradictions of the property market are such that it seems now, by law, only new café-bars and restaurants are allowed to open in the town. It is clearly cheaper and more desirable to convert a former bank into a pub than convert a former pub into a reopened pub.
A pleasant day for sure. Long may it last (it probably won’t). I’m sure the dogs appreciate it just as much as the walkers do.
Hardly the most sumptuous shot. photographically, but it suffices to represent a day spent entirely in the local vicinity. It’s getting lighter in the evenings, as it always will at this time of year, but not yet past 6pm.
The first shot taken in Hebden Bridge since 25th January. It’s nice to travel, but it is also nice to come home. Even if the weather while I was away was wintrier here than in Canada — this much is obvious.
Well, it was quite nice for a day or two. It didn’t last. This picture was chosen for today, in part, because Clare insisted I not use the one of her putting on her slippers, but nevertheless this does epitomise the day.
Snow was forecast and duly arrived, though it was hardly a winter apocalypse. It did make the town look good, though. This graveyard sits on the hillside across the valley from my house: it takes a long zoom to pick it out in a photo and, usually it’s all rather brown and unprominent. But I like the way the snow picks out the headstones, like rim-light, almost.
Those of us in exile in the beer garden must have our reasons…. perhaps just misanthropy, in my case. The two women doubtless have their own thoughts on this. But the weather was OK so why not? Is that even a bit of light in the evening sky? I believe so.
Another low-contrast kind of day, spent at home working, little to see other than what the local landscape, weather and birdlife allow. In the end, this was the day’s best combination of those factors.
Being 42 