One of those days where I had to accept that every photo I tried today was either boring or out-of-focus. This one is certainly the latter, but hopefully the pink octopi are interesting enough. They are advertising baubles, though. Other energy providers are available.
October 2025 began without a great deal happening, at least not to me. For now I am staying in my little bubble. Maybe this shot is representative of that, somehow, but maybe it’s just a nice splash of colour.
I did think about giving this post a different title, but, you know — it is what it is.
Rather than just being a random piece of (pink) machinery left lying about the place, though, I think this has been adopted as an advert for a local haberdashers: the entrance to which is just to the left of the photographer, at this point.
The dominant theme of the last few days has been sand, so it’s about time we had some local fauna on here. This is not only the first time I have ever seen flamingos in the wild, but, I am fairly sure, anywhere. Apparently over 200,000 of them live on Walvis Bay’s lagoon. This place is where I came in with Namibia, on the flight out to St Helena some 16 months ago (see this shot): compared to that, today’s picture is certainly fuller of life and rather pinker. Flamingos are pink — it’s the way they are — and they definitely seem to like each others’ company.
Whether this lantern ever produces light, I know not, but it looks quite good with the houses of Birchcliffe behind, and this is one of those shots that almost sits in its own frame. This will be an uneventful couple of weeks, but interest will pick up again in April, rest assured.
After 26.5 miles over the last two days — and in warm, sunny weather too — a day of rest was called for. Clearly the June heat is encouraging many people to expose more flesh than is usual, although with the number of stag and hen parties that pass through Hebden these days, this is becoming a more common sight.
No particular point being made with this one, I just think it is a nice portrait. Sometimes C and I try to stop ourselves going out in co-ordinated gear but with these two you get the feeling the choices are carefully made.
There may be a few people, other than me, working in the Ellen Wilkinson Building at this time. There are occasional noises, dimly perceived, as if made by spirits. Shadowy presences in stairwells. But seeing as even in normal times I was usually the only one who ventured out into the hidden courtyard, the annual cherry blossom display is even more personal than usual, this year. We both greeted a warm, early spring day — alone.
Joe and I were supposed to be going to see The Who tonight — live in Leeds no less — first postponed from just under a year ago, but now cancelled altogether. Another little pleasure denied us. So in the absence of anything actually happening, here’s some abandoned furniture, on a slope. UPDATE; Clare informs me that this is not a lost object; in fact a number of them have been set up in various places in the Calder Valley, as another place for book-swapping. Lift up the top of the seat, and the books are inside, it seems.
Being 42 