Thursday 28th April 2016, 3.05pm (day 1,708)

I just like the lines of redness, sliding down the stairs until they spill out into the kid’s coat.

I just like the lines of redness, sliding down the stairs until they spill out into the kid’s coat.

Another trip down South, meaning another morning change of trains at Leeds station — so many shots have been taken here. I like the general pinkness of this shot and the everyday stance of the two human subjects. Mundane it may be, but attractive, I think.

The last train of the day (on the Keighley & Worth Valley Railway) has gone already — we are waiting here for a bus, not a train, the weather was far too grim to wait outside. Joe’s face on this shot amuses me.

A day early too. We all need a break — me, him and indeed the trains, which stop running into Manchester for the next 10 days, just for the hell of it really. Who cares: I’m now off work until the 4th April. Happy Easter.

Why do I keep taking photos of this building (see also here and here, to identify but two others)? Because I like it, it is fine architecture and great public space.

Waiting out our train connection at the subterranean St. Pancras Thameslink station and I passed the time taking pictures of people on the opposite platform. Voyeuristic maybe but this was the best picture of the day.

This is our friend George who came to visit tonight, here we are waiting for the train back home after time in York. I like this shot because of her blue hair nearly perfectly framed in the huge roof canopy of this famous old railway station.
Still occasionally to be seen on small, provincial British railways. This monster bombed through Hebden Bridge station slightly in advance of the 8:05 to Manchester, headed for unknown places.
Manchester Victoria station is much improved by the recent renovations, but actually this picture is taken in the non-reconstructed part; squatting under the [insert name of current corporate sposnor] Arena, this was a rare burst of light. Nicely illuminated these guys waiting for the 12:whatever to Wigan, though. And was I arriving in the city late, or going home early? I’m not saying, Possibly both…
I wasn’t taking a photo of this guy, but just of the scene. He then stopped walking, turned straight into the shot and lit his cigarette. Sometimes it just works out.