Paid one of my occasional visits to campus today; I count 22 pictures in Manchester in 2024, so one every 10 days, and not all necessarily because of work. Not that there seem to be many people around when I do turn up, although this is excusable in August.
In the mid-1970s the esteemed, and very good, photographer Martin Parr (see this page) moved to Hebden Bridge aged 23 and started capturing scenes from local life. These were published as the exhibition and photo-book The Nonconformists. The picture seen here, of the policeman walking in front of the cinema snack bar, was taken in exactly the same spot that this print now hangs, nearly 50 years later. It doesn’t really look a great deal different, on the whole.
OK, maybe just before 11pm isn’t ‘late’ to some of you but I am not a night owl; this is the latest shot in five and a half years, in fact (allowing for a couple taken past midnight that lose the award on a technicality). It isn’t great quality but it is the only one I captured today that might have artistic pretensions.
The garden doesn’t produce vast amounts of food — believe me, self-sufficiency in vegetables is something we are a long way from achieving (though for a few weeks each summer we manage better with fresh fruit). But when edible products do emerge, they get used. We haven’t had fresh peas and beans for years.
There are some days when I really can’t think of any caption or explanation for posting a photo beyond the fact that I just quite like it. Daisy Hill is a place (in the Wigan-Bolton hinterland) with a cute rustic name, but its railway station doesn’t follow this lead — at least, not while some renovations are going on.
These things are not necessarily unusual sights in Hebden Bridge, but perhaps their juxtaposition is rare.
By British standards, Yorkshire has always been a big county. Chopped around with a bit since 1974, nevertheless, in terms of its historic boundaries it was the largest in the country. And Mickle Fell, at 2,585 feet/788m above sea level, was its highest point. Truly, therefore, between about 10.30 and 11.00 am, I was Top Yorkshireman — geographically, at least.
Of course, since 1974 this territory was allocated to County Durham instead — but let’s gloss over that little detail. If you want to find out more about my walk today, please do have a look at my other blog.
The sun is still shining. A few attics need airing, skylights need opening. Ours too — this photo was taken by sticking my head out of the roof.
The weather is warm and pleasant at the moment, and very unconducive to staying indoors, even if I did have to work. So, I didn’t. Stay indoors, that is. The other thing comes with the territory, for a bit longer in my life at least.
And so ends July 2024, another month that has felt extended over quite a long time — at the start of it we were still in the Isle of Wight, and that was surely ages ago. But apparently not. Anyway, the month ends with an evening in Leeds. No particular significance attaches to the chosen picture — I just like the colours. Which is, of course, probably the reason that the designers of Granary Wharf’s visual elements did this with the lights.
