Cheesus being the name of one of the many eateries-stroke-café-cum-bars that are now, by law, the only kind of retail establishment allowed to open in Hebden Bridge. It served a fine grilled cheese sandwich for lunch, and why not a Christ reference today — it is his birthday celebration tomorrow, after all. Enjoy tomorrow, however you intend to spend it.
This was a busy scene earlier in the day but by dusk, things are packing up. A blob of drizzle that I did not spot in time would normally be grounds to reject the shot but here it provides a kind of ghostly highlight for the last remaining bits and pieces that are heading into the storage shed behind. I like the little ‘eyes’ peeking out over things on the left, too.
It’s not really accurate to say that we came up to Dundee to bring Joe “home” for Christmas. Home, for him, is up here now. You can’t see the windows of his place on this shot but it’s close by. But he was returned to Yorkshire, at least — by 4pm. I like the zones of red on this shot, spacing themselves across the bottom.
The Winter Solstice was spent getting the Christmas shopping done in Dundee, which among other things, is the home of D. C. Thomson, publisher of the famous (in the UK, anyway) comics the Beano and Dandy. The latter no longer comes out except as an annual, but for the 75 years that it was published, the character Desperate Dan was in every issue: and here is his statue in the city centre. The other shoppers don’t seem bothered, though.
This is a fine building — or, rather, a complex of buildings. Taken, with a long zoom, from the slopes of Allermuir Hill, the north-eastern terminus of the Pentland Hills. Behind, across the Firth of Forth, the shore of Fife. It’s somewhere other than home, anyway.
This shot is taken a few hundred yards down the canal from the one captured on Friday, and as is very clear, there’s been a considerable thaw in the meantime. But there remain remnants of ice on the water, sublimating these tendrils into the far warmer air.
Six shots in a row in Hebden Bridge, and eight of the last nine. There’ll be variety tomorrow though.
It is known that birds are relatively intelligent creatures for their size, so as I crawl through this null time before Christmas, trying not to think about work, questions come to mind, such as — do they deliberately crap on people’s heads, or is it all an accident? This old metalwork crosses over a street in Hebden as it links two buildings, and whatever it once was, it is now prime pigeon perch; and always worth a look upwards, before any attempt to pass beneath it.
Two years ago, roughtly, I walked into this establishment intending to buy gifts for others and came out having spent far too much money on myself (see this post). Today I ignored its warmth and welcoming lighting; except to capture this shot, anyway.
I got out of the house, though as you can see, it isn’t getting any warmer. Winter 21-22 was nothing to speak of in the UK, but the 22-23 version has some bite.
Previous outbreaks have been mere preparation for the present implosion of uneventfulness, but once work is finished tomorrow (and, ideally, early tomrrow) for the semester, I will get out and about more. See this one as an abstract, and a homage to the fact that there’s still some good light outside — still damn cold, though.
Being 42 