I’ve been suspicious before that certain flora depicted on here are in fact versions of ‘Audrey II’, the man-eating alien plant from Little Shop of Horrors. Here’s another one. Of course, the connection is made because the plant in the movie is so well-designed, and takes characteristics of real plants as the basis. But it still works. (It’s a foxglove by the way.)
Hardly a great photo technically, and converted to black and white as much to conceal deficiencies as any other reason. But it does suggest that when there is a boat in the Canal Street lock in Manchester city centre, this is often the most interesting thing to see on the walk into work. It’s nice that this old transport system is still used: not everything useful has to be hyper-efficient.
Today I, and around 250 other people, walked from Arnside to Grange-over-Sands — an easy, flat walk of about 5.5 miles. The complication is that between these two places lies the northern reach of Morecambe Bay, the largest expanse of intertidal land in Great Britain. But in that also lay the fun of the day — the chance to (safely) get a couple of miles away from permanently dry land, into a space that is neither one thing nor the other, a limbo state between land and sea — with a healthy dose of sky, too.
I deliberately cranked up the contrast on this shot because I like the way that all the people look like dashes of paint descending from a horizon that is insubstantial but definitely there. As if we are trapped within a sheet of glass, aware of the heavens above us but unable to reach them.
Treated myself, and my PhD student Steve (well, we split the bill) to a rarity for me, a working lunch, courtesy of the huge Tai Wu restaurant that sits just next door to the campus. And the dim sum were very fine. I’m still glad it’s Friday, though.
When academics grow up they still behave as their students do: sitting at the back and hoping no one picks on them for input. I wonder how many chairs there are at the University: tens of thousands I imagine. Perhaps the entire student population could sit down there at once, but many of them would definitely be visible at the front.
The wall separating Rochdale station from the rest of the world allows only glimpses of the nearby architecture. This shot is here more to demonstrate how the evenings are already drawing out noticeably: I’m not saying it was daylight at 10pm but it was not altogether dark either, as you can see.
A very limited day in terms of photographic opportunities. It was some cherry blossom again, or pub dog Reggie being mildly exploited. But he doesn’t mind this kind of thing, it’s his job.
My football habit does give me the chance to go exploring: that and the photo-blogging are all part of the same mix, really. I have been to Darwen, south of Blackburn, before but it didn’t make it onto here so this can be its debut. A former centre of textile manufacture, making paint is its main industry these days, and I guess the mural could represent one or both of these endeavours.
It’s been a long time since I went to any kind of live theatrical performance. The last time one was depicted on here was probably 30th December 2018 (The Producers, in Manchester). In large part we can, of course, thank two years of The Great Fear for this, and that also explains why there’s been no Hebden Bridge Burlesque Festival since 2019. But this has returned, tonight was the finale, and as they needed some ushers (glorified fire marshals) I got to put on a suit and go and see it for free. We were allowed to take photos only at the end, so here’s the one chance I got. This woman, CeCe Sinclair, was the MC, and a bloody good job she made of it. She did it while not wearing much, but that’s burlesque for you. A better-than-average Sunday evening, anyway.