The notion of ‘an evening out’ largely died with the dawning of The Great Fear. This is the latest shot in any day since February 19th. We tried today, but it is cold out there, and trying to enjoy oneself is now something to be looked at askance, it makes one suspect, subversive almost. I cannot say there is much to look forward to in life right now. This chap may or may not agree with me — and so may you. But for me it’s the way it is.
Somehow the little guy on the pedestrian crossing sign just adds to the concept. We are now all islands. Or, supposed to be, by official decree.
It’s been nice to come down to London for a couple of days, the weather’s been good and I have met friends and had decent exercise. But there’s been something eerie about it, unnatural and wrong. Difficult to do much else today than post another picture of somewhere that should be very busy on this day and time under normal circumstances, but instead, echoed like an empty cathedral.
I was resolved that today’s photo would depict a living person, after ten days of no one at all. And so it does, in part. Those of us still wishing to use the trains are doing so, casually.
I had to go into Manchester today to pick up some things. This is the 611th photo on this blog that has been taken in the city — but quite possibly the last for some time, unless things change radically. But as you can see, social distancing was maintained. What my feelings are about the steps currently being taken are not relevant here: like I’ve done for the last 3,130 days, I will just do my best to document what I see.
The blog’s third 29th February. Like 2012 and 2016’s, I didn’t really get up to anything very exciting to mark the extra day: I didn’t even visit any of the attractions noted on this signpost outside Blackburn station, but I took the picture because I liked the look of the canopy roof.
I’ve not been venturing very far from home in the last two weeks and this is a state of affairs that is due to continue for a while. I offer this view from Rochdale station as today’s pic, not for any particular reason, I just like the arrangement of the various lines and slopes. And the snow’s still around, as you see.
Preston station this evening was the showcase for this gorgeous lump of metal — the horde of sightseers was not limited to the people seen here, the group extends round behind me and the camera. And why not: there is something undeniably attractive about these machines, proof that technology can also sometimes be art. It was pointing north, so presumably was about to steam up to Scotland; appropriate considering its name, as loco no. 46115 is known as the Scots Guardsman.
Three days in a row in Manchester — teaching must have started again… This also explains the early start today. Expect more of these on subsequent Fridays, to be honest. But at least I know that at 7.15 am in Victoria station, one can purchase pudding and pie.
Some pass by, some stand still, but we are all eventually heading somewhere else than King’s Cross station. I waited out my 20 minute train delay on the walkway above the main concourse, offering the chance to take this angle on it all.
Being 42 