Particularly as I am posting rather late, I guess the owner of the red Range Rover has, by now, worked out what happened to his vehicle. I have no idea as to whether they deserved it or not. But it happened, and was duly documented (one presumes not only by me).
So I’m trying to work this one out. Did someone simply not bother to overpaint, or remove, the entire sign? Or was the original commission a misunderstanding, and Kirklees County Council fully intended to warn drivers and others that around the corner they might encounter one or more specimens of Equus zebra? Inquiring minds want to know.
I have no problem using other people’s art to pep up the blog and this is remarkably good. Apparently, with a pair of 3-D glasses on, it comes out even better. So effective is it that I resisted the temptation to post something from this afternoon’s football match, although Rochdale 2 Morecambe 4 was such an unexpected and pleasing result that the temptation was a strong one, I must admit.
Day two of the journey home, so a day spent largely behind the wheel. Only at the lunchtime stop, Annandale Water services (it’s been on before) was there the chance for photography. All motorway service stations are places of transience: if anyone stops for longer than 30 minutes, which is about what we managed, I would wonder why. So this little critter shouldn’t be too worried. I’m sure they’ll be back soon enough.
Roadworks on Keighley Road continue to increase in both volume and density. Soon the entire street may disappear, collapsing in on itself to form a kind of roadwork singularity, or possibly a new form of matter, which will, while largely inert, occasionally flare up into frenzied and noisy activity at, like, 7 in the morning. Having thereby woken up any sleepers in the vicinity it will then return to its inactive state for the rest of the day.
Or should it be, the parked red car? I know there is supposed to be some kind of innate order to English adjectives, but here I am unsure. Anyway it is often seen in this position — this was not a lucky capture. And yes, it tilts to a noticeable degree: otherwise, this shot is faithful enough to the perpendicular.
Lucky is the guy who really runs the place where I’m staying. “He doesn’t like strangers”, I’ve been told. This seems to be true. Steadfastly, he continues to show his disdain for me. Even rubbing up against car exhaust pipes seems to be preferable. I feel suitably rejected.
I notice that almost exactly three years ago, on 7/10/21, I illustrated that there were still plums on our tree (albeit being eaten by insects). This year, those fruit were all gone by the end of August. But it’s time for the apple tree to pay off. It never matches the production rate of its neighbour, but it does just fine each year. On this shot I note also the matching car behind (yes, our kitchen is that close to the road).
Although I will fly back over the country again tomorrow, this was my last morning in Namibia. It gets added to the growing list of countries that I have visited that I hope to return to someday — but lack of opportunity and advancing years means I may well not (let’s include, at least, Fiji, Vietnam, Tanzania and New Zealand alongside it). Either way, it’s been a good two weeks. Here, I am being driven back to Hosea Katuko International Airport — which does not seem to lie particularly near Windhoek, and on arrival, stands strangely alone in countryside like this, typical of the country.
I do not know what you call black-and-white striped pedestrian crossings in your country, but hopefully this associative pun works very well for UK readers. Taken in the Etosha game reserve.
Being 42 