After plenty of fine days since we left home the weather for much of today was dreadful, but it did improve. The trouble with trying to capture a sunset picture in such a northerly latitude is that it always goes down so slowly, and this evening, time was a little limited and waiting much longer not really practical. But this one will do.
This week has been one of those periods where keeping this blog going is as much an exercise in persistence as it is one of creativity. Despite all the countries that have been seen in the last 12.25 years (see the stats) it’s been seven months since I have left the UK (the last shot taken away from Blighty being this one of the Pyrenees on 5th April). But this will change in 2024, with fairly definite plans for trips to Canada, the US (including New York City) and at least one return to St Helena, via Namibia. So hang in there…. Meanwhile, here’s a shot of a local tree.
I said yesterday that grim as it was, the forecast was for improvement, and the sun duly shone on me and 309 other people who spent their Tuesday evening at the ground of Trafford FC, a few miles west of Manchester city centre. Perhaps not the biggest club located in their metropolitan borough (I’m sure most people could name the biggest if they thought about it for a minute): but a friendly one. I chose this shot today because of the excellent rim-light, but also the woman laughing in the middle. At least — I think she’s laughing.
Our neice Poppy had her 18th birthday party today, in the building ahead; we got there late, thanks to ths usual rubbish on the train line. Clare brings a dash of red to the scene, meanwhile her Dad, i.e. my father-in-law Dave, makes only his second-ever appearance on the blog in 4,250 days.
The cherry blossom in the courtyard at work had been and gone six weeks ago, but the more exposed trees outside the White Lion in Hebden Bridge require more lead-in time to reach full flower. Still, here they are — in time to make the place look good for the Easter daytrippers.
The evenings obviously get lighter through January — though it takes a while for the mornings to catch up. The moon is on the wax at the moment, Boris Johnson is an idiot (just thought I’d mention that) and the weekend is here.
An uneventful day to bring to an end a relatively Hebden Bridge-bound period of the blog, but there are trips away planned for much of the rest of July. Why the monochrome? As so often — because it covers up red blotches caused by lens flare.
More an abstract than anything else, today. Although the swallow (if that is what it was — it was certainly flying like one) gives it focus. I felt like putting up an evening shot, anyway: there have been very few of these in the last eighteen months. Nights out are a thing of the past. Mind you, 40,000 people could be accommodated in Wembley yesterday afternoon — but apparently, going out to the Trades Club is still considered ‘unhealthy’. Enough of this bullshit.
Gosh — sunny and warm weather, and a night out with friends. Embrace both, infeed. But like Manchester, the city of Sheffield is only half-alive, so much is boarded up, shuttered, or simply closed. Huge numbers have been vaccinated and still we are pushed the fiction that everyday life has become ‘unsafe’, that asserting our freedom is selfish. This virus will be around for the rest of our lives. Time to get used to it.
This tree has a noble aspect. I like its seeming formality and the way the guys disport themselves below it in various ways. I like the little cloud fluff that it seems to have caught in the top branches. Pictured in Stockwood Park, Luton — a town which makes a classy debut on the blog (though see also tomorrow).
Being 42 