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.
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.
High pressure and warm air idling up from Spain, apparently, made this surely the warmest and most pleasant November 12th in my lifetime — even on St Helena last year it was not as nice as this. I refuse to consider this a bad thing: not on the day, at least. I’m sure the ducks think it’s better than the alternative as well.
Let’s get on with another year, shall we? Three fowl (I assume, one duck, two geese) drifting by serenely on the Rochdale Canal is not any metaphor for life that I can think of, but it is a way of representing a peaceful (birth)day.
Hardly a great photo technically, and converted to black and white as much to conceal deficiencies as any other reason. But it does suggest that when there is a boat in the Canal Street lock in Manchester city centre, this is often the most interesting thing to see on the walk into work. It’s nice that this old transport system is still used: not everything useful has to be hyper-efficient.
More of a mood piece than anything else: a pleasant, springlike, Easter Saturday spent (in part) ambling along the Rochdale Canal at Smithy Bridge. Here, we are about half way between Hebden Bridge and Manchester; keep going long enough and the entire canal may get documented on here eventually.
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.
One wouldn’t think Burnley would be on a direct route from Leeds to Liverpool but the canal bearing that name does take a rather roundabout course. It’s a pastoral spot in a town that doesn’t have a reputation for rural charm. The rule of thirds works well enough on this shot.
A day out on the Leeds-Liverpool Canal, which takes a roundabout route between those two cities so is here pictured near Skipton — place #350 to be depicted over the lifetime of the blog. Old Master Pete, the boatman, waves as he takes the family past a herd of cows who seem to have the right idea about how to deal with the day’s heat.
It’s always nice to see Canal Street, in the centre of Manchester, actively live up to its name. Lock open, rather than lockdown. Perhaps I could have stood a bit to the left and made this a more symmetrical shot, but never mind. The guy at the gate has busted the photographer.
Being 42 