Attempts to create a new tradition by running a bunch of tractors and trucks, decorated in lights, through the centre of Hebden Bridge on 24th December were greeted by this photographer as an opportunity to depict something different on the 14th Christmas Eve to grace these virtual pages. Did he (I) really see the point, though? Well, not really. But it did draw a reasonably sized crowd.
Some pictures get on here because they are exactly the shot I wanted to capture when pressing the shutter. This is not one of those pictures. Until I uploaded it later and had a look I was assuming it hadn’t worked out; I was just trying to take a shot of these two mannequins in a shop window with mirrors instead of faces. Why anyone would design a mannequin in such a way I don’t know, as I thought it looked kinda creepy; hence my taking the photo.
But then the trees over the road crowd in, reflected in the glass of the shop window, plus, is that a self-potrait of the photographer captured in the lower part of the parallel dimension that seems to have opened up where that face should have been? Ghostly….. Or, possibly, just a bad photo, but here it is anyway.
The chemical plant which spreads for many acres around Low Moor railway station is one of my favourite places, at least for photography. Particularly at night, it looks magnificent: like the setting for Brazil or Blade Runner or some other sci-fi dystopia. (It looks interesting from a distance too, as suggested the last time it appeared on here, on September 1st.) And there are never any people seen there. In a few decades’ time perhaps the whole planet will be run from such places. Perhaps it already is.
When Clare first looked at this photo as I uploaded and worked on it last night, she thought at first the backdrop was one of stormy skies; but it’s not, it’s the woodland up the side of the valley. The reason that is not catching the sun, and the houses are, is that at this time of year around 2.20pm is the point in the day where the sun is already starting to go down behind the valley wall. Here, you get what you can in the winter.
This was one of two photos that I took today which I like despite their technical deficiencies. I was more or less trying for this effect. My third day in a row in Manchester (and blog-wise that’s the first time that’s happened in 2024), but I was not there to work, nor, like the great majority of the people in the city centre, to shop. Instead I was going to the football and just passing through on the tram, nicely insulated from the rush — and the rather poor weather — outside, at least for 45 minutes or so.
This back street has long been a feature of my walk to campus in Manchester, and at this time of year, when the sun is shining, it is one of a number of streets on the route that channel the morning light in photogenic ways. The sun doesn’t necessarily shine much in early December in Manchester so it’s worth capturing the moments.
There was certainly a decent amount of smoke coming out of one of these stacks; but it seems he was satisfied that nothing was particularly amiss. I pray that I never have to get up on our roof, or the roof of any of these overdwellings, for any reason, professional or otherwise. It’s a long way down from five stories up.
A day on which I came very close to having nothing to photograph, but I did decide, around noon, that it was interesting that the coal shed of one of the houses across the road actually does have coal in it at the moment. The photo is one of textures, making a kind of collage. That’s my justification, at least.
Well, yes. I’d be inclined to pay attention to this one.
Another day spent almost entirely in my office at home, working, and not emerging until after the sunlight was mostly gone. The Friday market in town was still open at this point, though only just, and I’m sure this guy is considering packing up his clocks and jewellry and calling it a day.
I go monochrome here simply because it feels right for the shot and it stops the bright green stripes at the top dominating it. It is not a ‘Black Friday’ reference. I hate that bollocks, in fact: especially because, as various recent conversations about this marketing wheeze have proven, virtually no one in the UK — consumers, retailers, the media, anyone — actually understands the derivation of the term. Be honest — do you know where it comes from? (American readers don’t get to answer this.)
Being 42 