The city of Chester makes its third appearance on the blog with this rather odd piece of architecture. I like the black-and-white, but that’s a strange inscription don’t you think? And yes, the burglar alarm at the bottom does annoy me. Otherwise I think I’ve mostly got the symmetry right.
There is not a great deal going on in life at the moment; the weather is poor and it feels like dead time at the end of what has, admittedly, been a rather extended summer, at least in personal terms. But like these kids, I’ve gone ‘back to school’ — not that I find it any easier to accept than they probably do.
The stuffed panda sits on a desk waiting to be helpful, while the two attendees wonder where everyone else has gone (answer: they’re in the lecture theatre listening to the keynote — unlike your humble photographer who bunked off that one too). It’s conference season.
Looking at this evening’s sky, you don’t have to be a professional meteorologist to confidently predict that a downturn in the weather might be forthcoming.
The door hides itself in the dark centre of the underpass beneath the Mancunian Way. It is always closed. Sometimes it rattles to itself in a sinister fashion, as if there is a mythical beast trapped within, and it’s the entrance to some foul dungeon, Manchester’s Moria. Today, though, it loomed open, but there were no surprises within — as the road sign and glimpsed wheelbarrow imply, just more bloody building site stuff.
A pleasant afternoon. Too bold with the tree trunk — too much sunlight? Well, perhaps I am feeling bold. Time passes, as autumn progresses it will not be long before this scene will no longer be lit at 5pm on any given day.
The weather has been some rain, some shine, alternating every half an hour or so, for some time now. I like the way this shot catches the drops and also that charismatic tree in the background.
So many blackberries. So little freezer space. This clump dangles tantalisingly off the wall at the end of Victoria Road, ten feet up; no one can pick them. But then again so much of this free bounty remains unharvested at the end of a summer; and so in November, the shops feel it’s OK to sell the imports from Guatemala. What a waste…
There have been very few morning shots recently. 15 consecutive afternoon ones up to and including yesterday, and only six of the last fifty have been taken before noon. I just wanted to get a morning shot today, and ideally one from Manchester so I can still prove I go to work there, now and again.
None of which really justifies this shot in particular, but what the hell; the little flickers of sunlight, bouncing off the higher windows, were about all we saw today, so maybe that’s enough explanation.
Wilfully ignoring the political developments of the day — let’s photograph some food instead. Two days after being picked, these blueberries have darkened to become indistinguishable, colour-wise, from the blackberries tossed in the bowl with them. Add some sugar and cream, and eat to forget.
Being 42 