After yesterday’s exertions I did not feel like going very far at all; like this mallard, I was content just to sit and watch the world go by, to be honest. (And tomorrow won’t be much different.)
This shot was actually incidental to the walk I completed today — my penultimate Wainwright walk, unless there is some big change of plan between now and, say, the next month. Skiddaw was nowhere near where I was. But — it looks so good here. All macho and domineering, despite its sheen of snowy white. Would that we could all look so good at a few million years old.
A pleasant day for sure. Long may it last (it probably won’t). I’m sure the dogs appreciate it just as much as the walkers do.
Halifax town centre lies hard up against a very steep hill that mostly cuts it off very sharply. But this being Yorkshire, some buildings still manage to cling to the slopes. I imagine that safety fence is needed for various reasons.
This was not specifically a photo of the bus station, which is crowned by the scaffolded tower seen here, but it does prompt me to note that this still isn’t finished after what feels like about two years of reconstruction. The last photo of the old version of Halifax bus station was taken at the end of 2021. It’s now partly in use, admittedly, but the works are definitely still going on… it’ll be nice when it’s done, but will it ever be?
Another day of data inspection and introspection brings to an end a whole week of much the same kind of stuff, so ending it with a rather ghostly self-portrait seems appropriate. Yes, I’m in a pub (The Albert), though not drinking rum.
This picture epitomises the week, not just the day. This is what ‘research leave’ means for me, at least this time round. I could tell you what it all means but it would be out of context and take too long. If too dulled out by it all you could, like me, get annoyed by the little speck of whatever between columns F and G and try to wipe it off — but it will be there forever, at least digitally.
Since I last passed this way in October, this particular piece of random art has acquired a head — and a rather demonic head it is, at least to my eyes. Impressive though. What this is, and why it sits in a yard next to Low Moor railway station, I still have no idea.
A quick return to the same point in space as depicted last Thursday, but now from the other direction. One of the two guys who’ve recently been scrambling about on our roof, fifty feet up — I hope to all hell that I never have to get on it — waves his arse into our bedroom window. But such behaviour can be excused, seeing as the guttering’s finally being sorted out.
Hardly the most sumptuous shot. photographically, but it suffices to represent a day spent entirely in the local vicinity. It’s getting lighter in the evenings, as it always will at this time of year, but not yet past 6pm.
The FA Sunday Cup might not seem like much to the rest of the world but about 600 people turned up today at Lower Breck FC’s stadium, in Liverpool, to see one of the quarter-finals. The tension seems to be getting to this guy: he’s about to see the home team (Pineapple) go out 0-2 to the visiting Trooper team from the West Midlands, anyway.
Being 42 