Number N+1 in the occasional series on here, Blokes Who Make Their Living A Long Way Up In The Air. In fact you can’t even see the occupant of this cradle, it’s more of an abstract. I couldn’t work in such a way, or location.
OK, it’s not really an aquarium. But it’s more interesting to look at than the side of most delivery trucks, which I’m sure is the point.
The Manchester marathon took place in quite warm conditions and Alex definitely needed this assistance as he passed the 26-mile marker, thus, 385 yards to go. By the time she reached this point — over four hours later — Clare was also very much in need of some water, but she made it nevertheless, thus completing her second marathon after Edinburgh in May last year. That’s two more than I have ever done, or ever will do: even at walking pace (like, up a mountain or something) I see no need to ever propel myself 26.2 miles in one day. Well done to all who do so.
As I’m having the week off, a chance to do highbrow things like hang around art galleries with the wife, who wanted to see this exhibition, Women in Revolt, at the Whitworth in Manchester. For this artist, her revolt seemed to consist of working with a camera for the three minutes it took to record the piece, the content of which can be guessed from the title of this post. Munch did it better, but if that’s the way you want to revolt, go for it, I suppose.
Once again, not the most exciting day, photographically or otherwise. But this one can make the cut for the curiosity factor of a pre-8am shot in Manchester: the earliest taken there since December 2022. These used to happen a lot more often; in 2019 alone I count six. But in 2019 I was still trying to be some kind of ‘manager’ at work. Not any more. These days, the Exchange Square pigeons can have their early morning paddles without me. In fact that was the last day I will be on campus until the 22nd.
This guy was certainly moving at quite a clip, so the ‘charging’ reference has a double meaning: pretty weak, I know, but that’s what a full day’s work does for my wit these days. In three days’ time I should be somewhere very different.
Whatever happened on the 22nd February at 9.55am happened while I was in Dubai, so I do not know the details. But going on the location, at the junction of Booth Street and Mosley Street in Manchester city centre, the ‘serious collision’ was most likely between a car and a tram — something which really shouldn’t happen in broad daylight. The tram is never going to come off worse in such an encounter. One therefore assumes the memorial flowers — note the £3.50 price tag visible on one bunch — are for at least one occupant of the car. And their ghost keeps a careful watch.
(OK, actually I’m the ‘ghost’, but it does look a little eerie, and was something I did not notice at the time of taking the shot.)
I don’t know whether St Bernadette’s — the church in the background — was busy on this Sunday morning, possibly it was. Hough End Playing Fields across the road certainly was, although this picture doesn’t capture the fact that at least half-a-dozen sports matches of various kinds were taking place around me at this point. I like the combination of the bright orange shirt and the slight dullness and tattiness of the background.
A study in blue, or possibly, ultraviolet. A study, also, in how full symmetry is so rarely possible, however hard one tries to achieve it. I will be flying out of here tomorrow, but for tonight, the airport hotel.
From the colour of one specific bit of Manchester yesterday, to this scene of utter grayness. Or is it greyness with an E? I’ve never been sure. Gra/ey it was today though, for sure. Such a gloomy day .
Being 42 