Wednesday 19th July 2023, 1.05pm (day 4,346)
Another day at home, musing on the existence of portals to other dimensions, as possibly manifesting on the Birchcliffe hillside, around the upper floor of 7 Chapel Street I reckon.
Birchcliffe
Being 42
Life, one day at a time
Tag Archives: photography
Ribchester Helmet (replica and reflections)
Tuesday 18th July 2023, 2.50pm (day 4,345)
In the late 18th century a teenager called John Walton found a great horde of Roman artefacts buried in the village of Ribchester. The most significant object therein was a ceremonial helmet, now displayed in the British Museum in London; what remains in the tiny museum in Ribchester, depicted here, is just a replica.
In which case: why not display it without the glass? If it could be touched, held, perhaps even worn, at least then we could get a sense of the materiality of the thing, experience it as a tangible object. I’m not saying it’s valueless in itself but stick it behind glass and something is lost.
Stan has a smoke
Monday 17th July 2023, 4.25pm (day 4,344)
After eleven different places in eleven days it’s time to spend some time at home again. I’m still not back to work though: that can wait another week or so. Stan generally agrees with this approach to life, I feel.
In Broughton
Sunday 16th July 2023, 12 noon (day 4,343)
Our nine days in Scotland come to an end. A fine trip, although a lot of driving — all by me — including today’s six-hour stint from Dundee back to West Yorkshire. Over the last two years this has become a familiar journey, and we know where to stop for tea, lunch, the toilet, etc: and also photo opportunities, as I can’t shoot whilst driving. Broughton, a little village nestling in the Scottish Borders, has become one of those spots. There’s a great little tea room just to the left of this shot. This house has a pleasing look to it but yes, the straight line on the left (coming off a telegraph pole I presume) does bother me.
Beauly Firth
Saturday 15th July 2023, 1.55pm (day 4,342)
Let’s permit Scotland to offer up its combination of mountain and seascape one more time before we have to head home. The Beauly Firth is the far end of the Moray Firth; this shot is looking inland, to the Highlands beyond. And yes, somewhere over there it is raining.
Golden eagle in flight
Friday 14th July 2023, 1.05pm (day 4,341)
Back in 2012, in the Lake District, I pictured a vague blob in the far distance that may or may not have been a golden eagle. But this one is definite. You may, of course, live in a part of the world where these noble creatures hang out on street corners, but that’s not the case in Great Britain — except, it seems, in the far north of Scotland, where this huge bird took off from some trees nearby as I passed and flapped lazily overhead for a while. Until uploading the pic later and checking the details I wasn’t sure of the species, but the wingtip feathers are the giveaway: an eagle it is.
Thurso beach
Thursday 13th July 2023, 11.25am (day 4,340)
OK, it’s another beach (after Monday), but Scotland is a country that does very good beaches — they’re just not very warm. This becomes the northernmost picture so far taken in the UK, a position it will retain until I finally make it to Shetland or Orkney. It will probably forever remain the northernmost picture taken on the mainland of Great Britain, at around 58º 36′ N.
Morning run, Cromarty Firth
Wednesday 12th July 2023, 8.55am (day 4,339)
More athleticism. Clare is in training and demanded a hill to run up. The tiny settlement of Nigg, on the Cromarty Firth, obliged this morning. The return to the Black Isle region was motivated largely by my desire to get more photographs of it, particularly of this firth thanks to its collection of old oil rigs and vessels that are either mothballed or being decommissioned. It’s proof that industry need not wreck a landscape.
Salmon leap, Rogie Falls
Tuesday 11th July 2023, 4.00pm (day 4,338)
Rogie Falls, near Strathpeffer, are touted as a place where one can see salmon travelling upstream to spawn and doing their leaps: but I must admit on first sight, I was sceptical. These were not minor rapids but a powerful cascade, thundering over several drops, of which the highest one, pictured here, must have been at least twenty or thirty feet high. Surely no living creature could possibly get up this, against the flow — particularly not one without arms, legs or heavy machinery.
Well, I was wrong. And I have to say that I now have a new-found respect for this species. There have to be easier ways to live out one’s lifecycle, though.
Avoch Beach
Monday 10th July 2023, 3.50pm (day 4,337)
The Black Isle, just north of Inverness, is actually a peninsula rather than an island, though it is almost cut off by rivers. It previously featured, thanks to Fortrose Ness, on my trip round Scotland last May, and as it seemed a pleasant spot I have returned, this time bringing Clare along (although that’s not her in the shot). Avoch beach is just up the Beauly Firth from Fortrose; the latter remains the northernmost British location to feature on here but that is a distinction it will lose by the end of this week.
Being 42 