The sun is shining, it was a beautiful day. In such circumstances it’s great to have the garden to hang out in on an evening. Although I suspect this foliage is a weed — raspberry probably, which seems to grow everywhere except where you actually want it to.
Sunday afternoon, and a lazy one. Well, it was a very warm and sunny day and the last few days have been busy enough.
One of England’s best-looking, and also hardest-to-reach corners. I have been doing this blog long enough to have photo locations recur even though it feels like quite a while since I was there, and this is true here — the slopes of Black Combe (the 1970′ above sea level mountain in the background), the Duddon Eastuary, and local fauna, featured on this decent shot taken back in October 2013. Today’s shot was taken from near Foxfield station on the long train journey home: not a bad picture for one taken from a moving train through glass, although there are some reflections visible near the centre if one knows where to look.
Middleham Castle was started in the last days of the 12th century. In 1460 or thereabouts it passed into the hands of Richard III, who may well have trod these stone passages, etc. etc., or perhaps not seeing as this shot might be taken up a chimney and rotated? The thing I like about this one is that you can’t be sure. An impressive ruin, anyway.
Middleham, North Yorkshire, is famous for two things: firstly being the former estate of King Richard III (‘my horse, my horse, my kingdom for a horse’ etc), secondly being the north of England’s premier racehorse training centre. Which facts mean it’s very medievally pretty and it basically smells of manure. Liked the churchyard though. It’s been a while since this blog did some good cemetery.
Earlyish start in Manchester for all of us… The third shot in nine days to be taken from more or less the same spot (along with this one and this one) — all within a few yards of each other, anyway.
A row of tents, from which are emerging a range of nice-smelling foodstuffs each lunchtime, seems to have established itself recently on Bridgeford Street on the uni campus. Probably it is just an exam season thing, but they seem to be getting enough business to make it a viable permanent fixture.
Gibson Mill, buried in the heart of the woods of Hardcastle Crags about 2.5 miles from Hebden Bridge town centre, has in its time been a mill, a roller-disco (honestly) and, now, the visitor centre for this National Trust property. This is something of a stock Hebden Bridge shot, but one that has as yet been unseen on this blog. (And seeing as I’m still trying to avoid repetition after 1,740 days, I guess that means it will now be unseen in the future. So make the most of it.)
A nice, sunny Sunday, which I saw nothing of, being confined at home grading assignments and wondering (among other things) what I was going to offer for today’s shot. But I did not give up; as night fell I got this shot of the tenement-style housing across the way. Why this line of top-and-bottom housing (the upper levels will be a different house from the lower, facing the street behind) is named for Gustave Eiffel I have no idea, probably it was all being built around the same time as that tower in Paris and so someone paid tribute.
Not an exciting shot, because not an exciting day, sometimes you just have to hang around at home and get the chores done. Tomorrow won’t be any more eventful either. At least it gives me the chance to show how the garden has started producing: the leeks, mint, rhubarb, rosemary and kale you see here all went into dinner, in their different ways.
Being 42 