Well, that’s what it looks like. In truth we were all, Doris the dog included, enjoying the sunshine; there’s not been that much of it to be seen in northern England this year so far but summer does appear to have broken out over the last few days, at least.
In John Wyndham’s The Day of the Triffids is presented the ultimate invasive species. So hostile is it to human life that following a public health disaster the plant simply takes over. I believe some people get to live out a siege future on the Isle of Wight at the end of the novel. It ain’t happening quite so quickly with Himalayan Balsam, but nevertheless I do believe that we are in trouble. There seems to be more of it than ever, this summer.
I’m sure there are worse things to be remembered for, and less appropriate ways of memorialising a loved one. Those whom Barbara left behind are hopefully gratified to see this being properly used. (That is an actual squirrel, in case you were wondering.)
That faceless mass of hair over there is Joe, down on one of his occasional visits from Dundee. This being the case, an afternoon off work was called and more exciting pursuits engaged in. And Totopoly is a pretty good game, all in all — it keeps up the interest to the end. Number 9 won, by the way — and it was my horse.
Not quite the latest pic in the ‘abandoned shoes’ series, as there is a pair here. Along with the other items they seem to have been placed beside the Keighley Road pavement deliberately, for collection and subsequent use by anyone who needs them. So if anyone in Hebden Bridge does want an old telephone, a plastic wine glass, a nail file, the shoes or the other things which were in the pile but unseen — feel free to go and inspect.
This is one of those occasions where an often-seen view suddenly struck me, for the first time, as possible material for a picture. And with a long zoom, it seems to have worked out. I like the details, such as the panda face to the left. Doubtless if you are Chinese, there will be more. Though apparently, the banners read “Happy New Year” (if the very small writing at the bottom of each is to be believed): proof that this particular culture is no more fastidious about taking down the seasonal decorations than are the English.
Went on a walk that was neither particularly scenic nor particularly straightforward, but it did have one saving grace: this beauty hovering over the grass of Cutacre Park, between Bolton and Wigan. What must the mouse feel? Does it know its hunter is up there, waiting for it to poke its head out of hiding just for that one crucial second?
Disturbed while I was weeding the garden, this little fella deigned to pose for its close-ups, but its purposefully outstretched front leg suggests it is definitely seeking to move on and continue its own day.
I seem to have a lot of pictures of people’s backs today, but at leats this one brings in the face of the guy in yellow so offers a touch more intimacy. They’re all still depicted through glass, however: which is perhaps meaningful, perhaps not. We were having a drink before going to the cinema, which stands directly above this bar, but the less said about the movie, the better.
The substitutes of Stafford Rangers FC ponder the fact that, about ten minutes into their game with a team from a lower division, they are already 1-0 down and are going to go on to lose 4-0. OK, it might have been a pre-season friendly but it’s not a great omen for the season to come. And none of these people were even in the starting XI.
I do wonder what the guy on the left of the shot has seen to distract him: assuming all the others are watching the current action on the pitch, he’s certainly not.
Being 42 