Sunday 22nd September 2019, 1.45pm (day 2,950)
I put in the Sunday afternoon challenge. Joe picked the game. Carcassonne begins.
I put in the Sunday afternoon challenge. Joe picked the game. Carcassonne begins.
This canal — and its birdlife — have featured once before, in Slaithwaite. But whereas that’s a fairly rural spot, this picture was taken in the midst of the industry of Huddersfield itself. Still, it delivered a mallard so superbly lit it might have employed a Hollywood lighting director, which graciously posed in the midst of slurping up the nearby vegetation.
Continuing my two-day walk, in the morning, the heath was at points a profusion of cobwebs, highlighted by dew and the morning sun: this photo captures a portion of it but cannot reflect the sheer scale of this spider-city, a fly’s vision of hell. When I returned past this point a few hours later, there was no sign of all this. Note the little brown leaf trapped to centre right, proof this is not a monochrome shot.
One last chance to get away from it all before teaching starts, and if one is going to get away, the Shap Fells, in the far east of the Lake District, is certainly the place to do this. Two days’ walking (of which today was the first), over 24 miles, and I saw more deer (three) than people (none). High House Bank is the easternmost Wainwright and rises attractively over the valley of Borrowdale below (this is not the Borrowdale you’ve heard of, by the way).
It’s nice that after nearly a decade and a half working in Manchester that I can still discover some new places. This was one: I just fancied a cup of tea at this point, and surely an establishment named like this can deliver? It certainly could. Inside had to be seen to be believed as well, but I couldn’t just snap away at the customers; the profusion of flowers in the porch does give something of the right impression, however.
I am sure that with better photographic equipment than mine one could have made this look like a lovely soft star of sunbeams, sparkling gently through the foliage on this lovely September morning. But hey, the main A57 motorway — the Mancunian Way — is a few yards to the left of this shot, and this is as firmly big-city as yesterday’s morning picture. So I beg forgiveness. I do like this little spot, an oasis in the morning walk to work — it’s featured before.
“New” is relative; this building was being built 200 years ago today, and was eventually consecrated in May 1822 to serve the residents of the new London suburb of Bloomsbury on what was, at that point, the edge of the city. The caryatid columns seen here now look out over Euston Road and all its carbon monoxide fumes. But they’ve lasted longer than the rest of us, and will continue to endure unless the HS2 rail link takes them out (I wouldn’t put it past the present administration).
On the train down to London. Both of these guys needed a rest after a weekend with the (grand)parents, it seems.
The kind of place I do like to hang out on a Saturday afternoon. And on a glorious day like this, how can one be blamed? No money changed hands. There was merely the fun of the game (a decent one too — 5-4 to the hosts in orange, Oxenhope Recreation, versus Headingley) and the view.
The end of a week, and some relaxation time was definitely called for. This one spot outside Calan’s holds the sunshine for as long as is becoming possible at this time of year, as the days decline. Clare makes the most of this, even though (and she did pre-approve the use of this pic) it does make her look like she is sporting some fine sideburns.