“Pssst. Do you think the humans know that we have seen through their devious ruse?”
“I don’t know. If we keep looking nervous, perhaps neither they nor the evil ducks will notice how we’ve reoccupied this strategic vantage point.”
“Why the frig anyone thought a plastic owl would scare us during the daytime, I’ve no…”
“Ssssh!”
Due to the 24-hour industrial action on the Tube, the bus stops on Euston Road this morning were like scenes from Dante’s Inferno. The bus advert just adds tragicomedy.
We love them for those three weeks in December — but then we cast them out for the woodchipper. ‘A tree is for life, not just for Christmas….’? (I’m not being entirely serious you know.)
This shot is taken in London, as I had to come down to get a Russian visa for my imminent next trip to Moscow. This is the 52nd shot on the blog to be taken here, which means it finally overtakes Brisbane as the fourth-most depicted place after Hebden Bridge, Manchester and the Lake District.
Your word of the day — xylophage, from the Greek ξύλον (xulon) “wood” and φαγεῖν (phagein) “to eat”, thus, ‘wood-eater’ — referring to the fungus that has started, slowly, to consume this giant fallen tree down by the Hebden Water. Close up like this it looks like a giant cliff, hence the title of this post.
Come Friday after work, the pub beckons — particularly with this beer on in Calan’s. It is well named, for it is worth respect and tribute.
I had a picture of the lights on Canal Street when they were up — and here they are being taken down, as tradition dictates, before Twelfth Night tomorrow. By the guy on the ladder in the background, who busted the photographer — one reason I quite like this shot, as well as the depth of field.
Hint: if really struggling to find a picture for the day — go sit in the allotment for ten minutes and wait for a robin to turn up and flirt with the camera…
Our window sill, and indeed our house generally, contain more pieces of deceased sheep than most people would consider normal. Souvenirs from a few Lakeland walks….
Public holiday today, and a beautiful day of weather, so I made the most of it and went on a Lake District walk. The remaining photos will be up on my other blog some time tomorrow morning. Combe Gill is a hanging valley above upper Borrowdale, tucked into the massif that is known as Glaramara. And yes, there’s something, well, intimate-looking about it.
Watching a game in the sixth tier of English football — the National League North — might seem an unusual way to see in 2017, but Joe, me and 2,509 other people decided it was worth doing today; numbers which help explain the strength of the sport in this country. Halifax Town 2, Darlington 2 was the final score, a good game, quite exciting, though from listening to the home fans around Joe and I you’d think it had been a disaster of Iceland v England proportions. I worry that this shot is a bit messy, but I like the crescent moon visible to top left, so let’s give it a go. I prefer it to most pictures I get at football matches, anyway, even if it is slightly out-of-focus.
Being 42 