A contentious statement… Although if given the choice, I would much rather work early in the morning than late in the evening. Come to think of it there’s many things I’d much rather do in the morning. So OK, I’ll concur. Being on Cross Street, Manchester at 7.35am shows that I had plenty to do this particular morning.
Life becomes increasingly homogenised, and every egg you buy from the shop now seems to be brown. But Clare gets eggs from someone she works with, who has a farm in Calderdale, one of those where you risk running over truly free-range chickens if you drive past, and she doesn’t add dye to their feed to get the desired level of brownness. I love the gentle blue colour of this one, and pure white is also often seen. (And brown too, as you see with the other one.)
More plantage. But it’s the season for it. There’s a shortage of vegetable oil at the moment, apparently — as Ukraine was a major supplier, but this year is not, for obvious reasons. So the more of this bright yellow stuff that we grow, the better: at least, if we want to fry our food in an adequately healthy way.
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.
Chosen purely for the shape and the symmetry. This VW serves tea and coffee to the market-goers in Hebden on a Sunday.
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.
Being 42 