Wednesday 6th July 2022, 4.30pm (day 3,968)

What beauty there is in this filament. As if it is a whole swirling galaxy of electric light. Worlds within worlds, within such an everyday thing.
What beauty there is in this filament. As if it is a whole swirling galaxy of electric light. Worlds within worlds, within such an everyday thing.
I still proceed with my favoured Saturdays as best I can. Sowerby Bridge FC offer me the chance to still witness an entertaining afternoon’s sport, and despite this being the first ground I’ve seen with power lines extending over the pitch, as seen here. The December gloom was deep and grey, but while this sort of thing can still happen then there remains some light in the world.
The line of pylons that reaches over the railway line around Mills Hill station has of late been the subject of building works, as seen here. So this photo fits itself into two vague categories of picture that I have been nurturing recently: blokes high up doing their jobs (like this one) and pictures of power installations taken at high speed from trains, as depicted last week. Do pylons count as ‘architecture’ (a more formal category of picture on this site)? Yes, I think they should. They dominate the landscape as much as any other engineered structure.
Looked to the left between Littleborough and Smithy Bridge stations, on my train commute into Manchester, and went into a sudden spasm of photographic ecstasy. Definitely one of the better pictures I have ever taken from a train moving at full speed.
Run a line of pylons through the Lake District and there would rightly be outrage, but though there will be purists who will not even concede this point, the moors to the south of Hebden Bridge are so bleak that at least these metal monsters make the landscape more interesting. I have no idea where these lines of towers come from, or where they march off to; they just stomp across the land for miles along the road from Cragg Vale to the M62 on Saddleworth Moor.
Today marks the start of the second six-month period of this blog – and thus we are at the halfway point. Yes folks, I am forty-two-and-a-half years old as of today. Because I am something of a statto, I feel obliged to share with you the information that:
Anyway, so. I have as much to do as I have done so far. We’re halfway through. I’m still enjoying it: I’ll keep doing it if you’ll keep reading it.