A wild flower, picked at random from the roadside and then subjected to a very high resolution scan. The individual flowers are less than half a centimetre wide. I have no idea what it is called - it matters not, it is the shape and the shade that is attractive.

Another typical Yorkshire scene: a freshly mown pasture, parallel hedgerows, fields receding to infinity. This, however, is West Yorkshire, and therefore between the second and third hedges runs the M62, one of the busiest roads in Britain.

A backlit bush and a grainy sky, and little else to do other than walk the dog and play with Photoshop.

My strange lockdown proclivities have progressed from scanning dead flowers to scanning other things I find lying around. I must stress that no pigeon was hurt in the making of this image.

A high resolution scan of the fallen blossom from the Camellia bush in the back garden. For weeks I have watched the bright pink fading into brown, and now most of the life seems to have gone from it. It leaves, however, a kind of beauty that can rival the boastful loudness of its prime.

I took this photograph a couple of days ago whilst walking in Greetland. It shows the view across some fields towards Wainhouse Tower and Crossley Heath school in the distance. It's a lovely sight, as fine a view as you could find anywhere in this land. What you can't see, however, is what I love … Continue reading The Valley In-Between

Just waiting. Waiting for a passing breeze or a swinging foot. Waiting for the earth to move. Waiting for a new start. Just waiting.

Yorkshire stone: from a passing stone wall. Stone with a crust like burnt toast. Stone with an interior like a golden honeycomb. Priceless.