Chosen as much because this was the year’s first outbreak of cherry blossom — at least, in my sight. The position of the photographer on this shot was carefully chosen — Alan Turing’s statue is visible, the litter bin is artfully concealed.
This week Clare has also been away, and remains there until the weekend. Back home I did nothing other than work at home and was close to having to put up something lousy on here, until later on, I looked over to the wife’s empty side of the bed and saw Frida Kahlo looking at me. Well, sort of.
Clapham Junction station takes everything that Victoria and Waterloo stations have to throw at it, and as a result is apparently the busiest railway station in Europe, judged by number of trains. Except between midnight and 5am there can be up to 200 trains an hour passing through here, which makes it more than one every twenty seconds.
I like this golden spillage of light, and the seemingly random fractions posted on the top. I was here late on: this is the latest shot since 5th October 2020, in fact.
Day off work today and glorious weather, so I got out and bagged the latest County Top: this one lying in the vast expanse of Swinley Forest, south of Bracknell in Berkshire. The ‘Ladies’ Mile’ was this seemingly endless, dead straight path; this view epitomising the day, both for the trees and also the large number of dogs running free, their owners largely oblivious.
Despite having come to London regularly over the years there are still parts of this massive city that I have not yet explored. The western suburbs were amongst them, but this time I am staying in Brentford, giving me the chance to take a Sunday morning walk down the banks of the Thames to Chiswick and Barnes, all desirable spots. The river looks narrow here but that’s because over there is an eyot, or river island, which splits the flow in two at this point. What the old concrete post was, no idea — but the birds like to perch on it.
These have to be among the world’s most stoic horses. The poles in this field are one end of the series of guidance beacons for one of the runways at Heathrow. Gigantic flying machines like the one seen here are coming into land every few minutes, and the noise is incredible. But they don’t seem all that bothered.
With a less-than-functional camera at the moment (I have not mentioned on here the St Helena Tarmac Incident), and a week at home mostly spent sat on my arse somewhere or other, reading/marking/reading, it’s felt an effort lately to get interesting pictures. This one’s alright I guess, but it’s a very familiar scene.
Having had an interruption to the normal procession of sunrise times, since I came back from St Helena it’s clear that things are getting noticeably lighter in the mornings — or, rather, becoming lighter earlier. This is welcome. Spring is on its way…. eventually.
The weather this week: long spells of heavy reading, becoming marking; some intervals of lighter reading. When this report was written, in 1985, it was commentary. Now, it’s history. Same words, different perspective.
Pleasant weather today, which was probably a good thing bearing in mind my need to reacclimatise. The Hebden Water was spilling rather gently over its weir near the centre of town. This is the usual heron-spotting location, but there were none here today.
Being 42 