Now, she’s on the nest. If it wasn’t for the presence of the nearby, and bright green, drake (unpictured), I would never have seen this nesting mother among the undergrowth. Seeing as ducks don’t have a great deal of offensive capacity, doubtless this camouflage is her only real protection against having the brood eaten by someone/thing or other. She was definitely keeping an eye on me, put it that way.
Although I spent most of the day in Manchester, Hebden Bridge should feature on here for the fourth day in a row thanks to the unexpected scenes which greeted its residents when opening their curtains in the morning. While we were enjoying the balmy spring weather a week ago, I joked with my international students saying “British weather — it could snow again before we’re done”. But I didn’t necessarily think I would be proven right. This was all gone again by the time I came home, however.
Sometimes in my more romantic fantasies of downsizing I wonder what it would be like to live on one of the barges on the Rochdale Canal — but these thoughts never last all that long before I think of the music and movie collections. If I really wanted to do it I’d probably already be doing it. The immediate neighbours would be Canada geese, too.
At some yet-to-be-defined point in the future, there will come a day when not only do I have nothing in particular to photograph, but I also don’t manage to take a usable photo of nothing in particular. Today came close, I have to say. I therefore feel it necessary to fall back on this selfie taken in the morning, for no particular reason. I did think of calling it ‘selfie in red shirt’ but then I went monochrome so even that is somewhat indulgent. At least you can check on how I’ve been aging recently. Clare thinks I appear ‘terribly serious’ here but I guess that’s just what I look like at the moment.
it’s taken Clare and I over a year to get round about four-fifths of the Calderdale Way’s 50 miles, after today. Still a couple of legs to go yet. Today introduced us to the side valley of Shibden Dale, a beautiful spot and, somewhere previously unknown (except as a brief glimpse now and again from the train, as the line crosses the dale not long after leaving Halifax) despite having lived here 21 years now. The cow looked happy to be there too.
After ten shots in a row with no people on them, let’s admit I do still occasionally join the social world. And Whitelock’s in Leeds really is a fine place to do it: the blue plaque acknowledging that this is a pub with much history, opened in 1715 and still going very strong. Arguably this place is the best thing about Leeds, and that’s not even to diminish the rest of the city.
Whenever I walk past the new car park on Princess Street in Manchester, just north of the Mancunian Way (the shadow of which is visible), nine times out of ten there is a mysterious, anonymous white van parked in the service tunnel, as here. The metal grille in front of it adds a pointillist effect to what is basically an abstract. Yes, probably it would have been better without the shadow, but it was another sunny and warm day, so I’m not complaining too much.
Since Halifax’s Piece Hall was renovated a few years ago it has become by far the most pleasing urban space in the town. The quadrangle is currently displaying a number of sculptures by Sophie Ryder, this being one of them; I recall a similar huge grey rabbit/woman at the Yorkshire Sculpture Park around a year ago, making me think, with hindsight, that this is probably the same artist. Incidentally, as far as I can ascertain, no actual rabbits have appeared on this blog in its 3,864 days.
Spring definitely sprung in Hebden Bridge today. Everyone and everything seems to be stretching out to enjoy the sunshine.
After 11 days of 11 different places I had no need to, nor intention to, leave the house today. What you see here is what was outside our front door, with the little dollop of variety and ‘free stuff’ to sustain the interest — at least a little.
Being 42 