If a plane is this high above Hebden it’s already well on its way to wherever it’s going. On the other hand, I haven’t been on a plane since April 13th, coming back from Ascension Island, and won’t be setting foot on one for the rest of the year unless something quite unexpected happening. I guess the carbon footprint is benefiting.
Once more I was in the work cocoon — specifically, the email cocoon — all day, only emerging as the skies looked like this. Another day, then, where there was not much to photograph, but at least it’s the weekend.
Collingham, in rural Nottinghamshire, becomes the 445th different named place to be featured on here: so I maintain the record of, more or less, one new place every ten days on average. This illustrates my urge to explore, if nothing else. Pictured, the start of my journey home: two and three-quarter hours later I was back in Hebden Bridge.
Should I have cropped the bits to the left? The fence annoys me a little: but on the other hand I couldn’t lose it without losing the hint of red light, which I like.
Wednesday night is Taco Night at the St Helena Yacht Club, probably the busiest single social gathering I have yet attended on the island, and in full swing behind me as I took this picture. But the outlook is west, across James Bay: the next land in that direction is Brazil.
The wall separating Rochdale station from the rest of the world allows only glimpses of the nearby architecture. This shot is here more to demonstrate how the evenings are already drawing out noticeably: I’m not saying it was daylight at 10pm but it was not altogether dark either, as you can see.
…or at ten-to-four on a Friday afternoon, anyway. But not “shepherds’ delight” because an hour or so after this it started snowing. Unphotographed, but the first of the winter, round here.
Having put myself about a bit over the last couple of weeks — this is only the fourth of May’s pictures to be taken in Hebden Bridge — I had a profoundly inactive day today, spent working at home. Lucky for you this dusk shot manifested itself this evening as you were this close to getting a picture of my feet. Be thankful for small mercies.
I can’t be the first parent to reach the point in their life at which they suddenly realise their child will be at secondary school next year. Blimey.
Because of this we were invited to an open evening at one of the local high schools tonight. Bearing all this in mind the obvious symbolism of this shot is unfair. But I like the counterposition of the words with that bruised sky above, one of the more dramatic evenings of recent weeks.
I am in the final stages of writing the first draft of my book and literally did not leave the house all day. With rain most of the day and flat light, opportunities were very slim. But in the end, the atmosphere obliged with a cloudscape.
Have we had a ‘Hebden Bridge sky’ picture for a while? No, I didn’t think so either.
Being 42 