If this is a specific type of rose, I cannot identify it: Clare tried helping out by doing one of those ‘look for images that resemble this’ searches on Google and it just came up with the name of a company, proving how our informational sphere has been colonised (or something). Perhaps future Google image searches will find this picture and call this breed ‘Crinkly’ because that’s what it is. Which is why I took the shot: I like its crinkliness.
No significant commentary today, just a pastoral scene on a relatively pleasant day of weather, one where I was glad I was not sweating it out in Manchester or some other such office space. It’s getting chilly, though.
This is definitely a stock shot, but what the hell. The Rochdale Canal is definitely worth a regular viewing, particularly at the peak of autumn.
A profoundly uneventful Easter Sunday saw me barely even leave the bedroom, let alone the house. Well, I’m allowed days like that now and again (it would have been chaos in town, anyway). For photographic purposes it was helpful that the sun was shining, illuminating the lettuce leaves on the windowsill rather pleasingly. I’ll go out tomorrow.
Another day where not a great deal happened, so let’s bring out one of the recent Hebden Bridge staple shots — Blokes Working On A Roof. This time, with added Autumn Foliage for garnish.
After the weekend away, the day spent almost entirely at home working to make up. Use was thereby prompted of a stock late October shot, but what the hell.
A hidden corner of campus. This shot has no deeper meaning, I just like the textures, of trunk, undergrowth, the wall. Although maybe that stuff on the wall is mould, but then again, you should see our bathroom wall.
The plums are eaten and gone, but there is still some free food to be found in the garden. The apples are not very big and a little tart but they will do fine in a crumble. I suppose I could have moved the prominent leaf before capturing this one but hey, it’s all part of the natural vibe.
This little new sprig, coming out from what I think is an oak tree (those do look like oak leaves), is catching the light in a figurative sense — but surely a literal one, too. I imagine that it’s exactly because that little patch of trunk achieves direct line of sight to that ball of helium 93 million miles away that the sprig has been encouraged out into the world. Life’s like that.
Having not been to campus since 5th April I decided I should show my face. Duly did so, and now won’t be back there until, probably, 26th June. Well, I am on study leave. Two things have emerged since my last visit: first, all the leaves on the trees, second, the encampment raised in protest against what is happening in Gaza. I assume the leaves will still be there in June. The tents, who knows?
Being 42 