After yesterday’s exertions I did not feel like going very far at all; like this mallard, I was content just to sit and watch the world go by, to be honest. (And tomorrow won’t be much different.)
On another dull day, in all respects, the waterfowl of Hebden Bridge once again save things photographically. As I’ve said on here before, I do like mallards, they seem quite an agreeable species. The duck to the far right definitely looks smug about something.
When I captured this clutch of fungi engaged in consuming this old tree down by the river, I had a feeling that I’d been here before. And so I had — getting on for seven years ago; it was 7/1/2017 when this symbiosis was seen from another angle. They’re taking their time, as the tree carcass doesn’t seem any smaller than it did back then. But if you are a fungus, I guess you see time differently.
Six bridges — three of which are for pedestrians only — cross the Hebden Water in town, but Hebden Bridge is named for this one specifically, purportedly built in 1510. This is something of a stock local shot but it gives as good an impression of the general shape of the town as is available.
Hebden Bridge has its share of risky parking spaces — there’s the ‘Wing Mirror Two Inches From That 40-Tonne Truck Descending At Speed’ variety and more than a few ‘Garage Perched Precariously On Thin Pile Of Bricks (Above Terrifying Drop)’. But this is a new variety. I assume Storplan have good insurance.
“Ssshhh. They’re asleep, I think. We can sneak in….”
“I feel scared. The water….”
POSTSCRIPT (feel free to ignore): You should have had a picture from London today. Specifically, I was going to go inside the Houses of Parliament for the first time in my life. However, thanks to an exquisitely timed cancelled train today — eradicated 10 minutes too late for me to get an earlier one — I couldn’t make it to King’s Cross in time for the event. So there was no point going. So Northern fuck up my day, and I get to just suck it up.
Pleasant weather today, which was probably a good thing bearing in mind my need to reacclimatise. The Hebden Water was spilling rather gently over its weir near the centre of town. This is the usual heron-spotting location, but there were none here today.
The family’s annual concession of a bit of exercise, alongside the eating and drinking that is also to come. We were only about another fifteen minutes from the pub at this point. Happy Christmas to you all.
The weir is where the herons work, in town. Maybe I return to this subject quite a lot — this particular heron might have been on the blog several times by now — but it’s sometimes a relief to see one, as on days like today (spent 95% inside, marking), there isn’t very much else to see. May they continue to fish happily away.
Is this the return of the much-seen Hebden Water heron that I call “Humph” (e.g., this shot)? Maybe, maybe not, but either way this was a much-needed piece of interest in another dull day.
Being 42 