Back to the UK, and in Manchester, for the first time since 21st March. I had set an embargo on pictures of building sites in the city, but that doesn’t necessarily leave a lot to photograph: and this delicate crane did catch the eye this morning. It reminds me of the leg of some insect, or spider, reaching up to tap on the roof above.
This unit knows it must put on a brave public face as it awaits installation, but
inside it is screaming
Two hemispheres… one of them real, atop the Corn Exchange in Manchester, one just apparent. But it balances nicely on the other. Would it be better if the spike pointed right to the terminator? Well, maybe, but then it wouldn’t balance, would it?
Two days in a row of photos at 7:nn am, as well: the last time that happened was May 2017. Must be the good weather making me keen. Or the realisation that I have six months left of my forties, which is true as of today.
Just an arrangement of rectangles, colours and graffiti that I liked on this Wednesday morning. But why the alarmed-looking bear? Guess only the artist knows.
The big cat leaps into the sunrise of the urban jungle…. I walk past this sign every time I go to work in Manchester, and one nice thing about doing this blog is that I can see things anew; having never thought of taking a photograph of it before, it made itself rather attractive on this Monday morning.
Honestly, the street drainage in Manchester is appalling. It was wet this morning, but not that wet. But from the look of the streets it was as if some tropical storm had washed over.
Anyway, I don’t have to deal with the place so much in the next few months. The next time there’ll be even the chance to take two photos in a row from Manchester will be late March: after that, hopefully, September.
Here’s this year’s Spring Festival (Lunar or ‘Chinese’ New Year) shot…. there are always opportunities for pictures like this in Manchester. These lanterns catch a little of the wan sunshine that illuminated the morning. And, it being Manchester, you get a crane photo-bombing, as well.
This is Sinclair’s Oyster Bar — oldest pub in Manchester, and also one of the most no-nonsense. Which is not to say it’s rough, because it’s not. But you get the drinks you’re given and you pay cash, and don’t expect plates of radicchio on the side. Best pub for Victoria station anyway — I know not only exactly how long it takes to walk from here, but how long it takes to specific platforms.
What am I doing in Manchester city centre by 7.15am on a winter’s morning? I should still be asleep. Like the guy in this sleeping bag, though hopefully in a more comfortable and less public place.
One of those days on which I got soaked in foul winter rain on the walk to campus from the station, and dreaded doing it again on the way back — but fortunately, the sun came out. Here, for once I don’t mind the lamppost in the shot.
I really hope there won’t be too many Manchester pictures over the next few months — at least that will be an indication that my sabbatical will be something meaningful. But it doesn’t start yet: I will be there most of next week before I can escape for a while.
Being 42 