We both had work to do. Mine involved reading, and eventually giving a grade. The insect perceives the notion of ‘work’ rather differently and would rather be off this slidy glass surface and back somewhere with, I guess, food, or maybe just less light. Our paths coincided for a short instant.
“Right you ‘orrible lot!”, cries the sergeant-major at the back. “This is the tidal limit of the Ribble right here and we will take no prisoners! Keep an eye out for that tidal bore which is due any minute now…. YOU! At the end! Wake up laddie!”
Hey, I’m sure gulls are as attuned to the hydrodynamics of their local area way more than any human. I had to look that stuff up on Wikipedia, but they knew it already — food is on its way upriver.
I await the 12:07 train to Retford, they are presumably about to get on the 12:10 to Sheffield and Leeds. I took this from in the exact same position on the opposite platform, that is, sat on the edge of a flower bed under the footbridge: which explains why, for once, I think all the angles and perspectives are exactly right, not to mention their legs and heads lining up very well. There’s the mobile phone, of course, but we can’t have everything.
Having managed to avoid going to work in Manchester for several days (a run that is not over yet), I nevertheless concocted a reason to go there on a Sunday, to ‘get out of the house’ — go figure that one out. I did not regret this, but it was a day on which the city lived up to its reputation for a certain dampness of climate. It’s not obviously coming down in this shot, but you can just feel it, can’t you?
On a day of almost constant rain these two made a stoic but attractive couple. The one on the left is certainly thinking a) why he has been so carefully groomed, almost like an anatomical diagram and b) why, unlike his mate, he wasn’t deemed worthy of a coat.
“If I stare at him in the right way, perhaps some of the food will leap off the plate.” It didn’t work though, Milo. I’m immune. (Well, maybe I gave him a bit later on.)
You thought you were leaving Hebden Bridge today? Naaah. Ain’t gonna happen, not at 9.45am, not at any other point either (though there were unsubstantiated rumours that the 13:48 may have run, probably to get some people home — that was it, though). Just as well I gave myself three days to get to Heathrow, huh. Let’s try again tomorrow.
There has been a long period where no herons were to be seen on the weir on the Hebden Water in town, but in the last couple of weeks there has been one there every day. Presumably, the same one: but I can’t confirm whether this is one of the two that were photographed regularly a few years back. It’s probably not. Anyway, it’s nice to see one of them again: they really are the most patient of creatures.
Since I last changed planes there in 2015, on the way to Kilimanjaro, Istanbul has built a completely new airport about 30 mies out of the city which is now the second-busiest airport in Europe after Heathrow. It did seem to me that you could catch a plane from there to just about anywhere, certainly in Europe, Africa and Asia — a landmass of which it occupies a very strategic point, and always has done.
I was there early, left early, but so did a lot other people — this moment of solitary contemplation was not characteristic of the whole. This becomes only the second shot in 4,652 days to be taken between 5 and 6am — the other also being in an airport, Manchester’s, while on my way to Moscow in January 2017.
It is, of course, wholly dark by 4.50pm at this time of year. Scant weeks ago this guy would have been waiting for his bus home in balmy sunshine. But so it is for all of us.
