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.
Misty weather discouraged a walk up anywhere high, but a nine-mile stroll along the Rochdale Canal to Todmorden and back at least stretched the legs today. While not really visible on this shot, this boat did have the remnants of a ‘For Sale’ sign painted on the side; I guess by now it’s probably quite a bargain, if you’re prepared to do the salvage work.
The Rochdale Canal has featured many times on this blog, most recently eleven days ago, near Todmorden. This shot is taken in the centre of Manchester, on Canal Street, as urban (and metrosexual) as you get, but you wouldn’t know that from this shot. When I returned past this point in the afternoon, all the leaves had gone, suggesting the lock had been opened at some point during the day — a small sign of life in what remains a mostly comatose city, just waiting for the Tory Party to take it down and stomp it underfoot for a few more weeks.
Far too nice a morning to stay indoors today and wait like little sheep to be told that we need to stay indoors a lot more, like until Christmas. A walk along the Rochdale Canal in the morning lightened the spirits and boosted the immune system, which is, of course, why we do it.
The Leeds and Liverpool canal takes a very roundabout route to link its titular cities. Here it is going through Burnley, a stretch which is a nice bit of greenery in the middle of that what is, otherwise, a workaday town. But it also feels very neglected, becoming swamped in places by algae (a sign that there are too many nitrates in the water) and litter (a sign that some people shouldn’t be let out of doors). This coot takes advantage of examples of both.
I went on a walk today along the Rochdale Canal from Littleborough to Walsden. Along that route one passes across the main watershed of northern England, which is marked by this sculpture, and poetry that you may enjoy (although the third and fourth lines are illegible on this reproduction — my apologies). If I were to have passed water at this spot, random chance would have led to it either bouncing to the left, and thus flowing into the Irish Sea at via the rivers Roch, Irwell and Mersey. Or, to the right — to flow into the North Sea, via the Calder, Aire and Humber. A very real line — as the poem says, a “liquid equinox” — but not a visible one, not without this memorial. Nice touch.
Yes, I would rather the box was not there. But one can’t have everything. Otherwise this rain/sun combination did catch my eye as I came home early from work — very early, but then again, it is Friday.
This canal — and its birdlife — have featured once before, in Slaithwaite. But whereas that’s a fairly rural spot, this picture was taken in the midst of the industry of Huddersfield itself. Still, it delivered a mallard so superbly lit it might have employed a Hollywood lighting director, which graciously posed in the midst of slurping up the nearby vegetation.
Being 42 