“With more than 2,000 fords in the UK, chances are you’ll come across one at some point. It may seem like a simple short-cut – after all there’s a road running through it – but that doesn’t mean the river is always safe to cross at a ford or watersplash”. The Automobile Association
I spent yesterday sheltering from Storm Francis. What else is there to do other than to play around with images – in this case some of the photographs I took in Halifax on Monday (a sunny day). As the rain poured down, it was time to open up the Photoshop and let my imagination run a little wild.
It was a rare sunny day yesterday, and I happened to be in Halifax with a little time to kill. So I wandered the streets, some of which I have been familiar with all my life, others of which I discovered had been hiding from me for seventy years. This is Halifax old and new, Halifax in transition between lockdown and re-awakening.
There are places in Halifax where the new and the old sit side by side in harmony, each accentuating the virtues of the other. On Blackwall, the Old Halifax Court House provides a fitting counterpoint to the unashamedly modern Halifax bank building.
The Beehive and Cross Keys has always faced the Playhouse Theatre, signifying the fine balance between art and entertainment. Now the Beehive is dead, the Keys have been uncrossed, and – for the moment – there are now plays at the Playhouse. Hopefully, the Playhouse will be back stronger than ever next year, but it is unlikely the same can be said about the Beehive.
With the iron grill of travel restrictions falling faster than the time it takes to flick through a glossy travel brochure, one is left wondering where to go for that little romantic break. Versailles is iffy, Venice is to be avoided and Athens is a risk too far. So what better way to spend a summers’ afternoon than to visit the caryatids of Ossett? Ossett Town Hall (conveniently situated ‘twixt Wakefield and Dewsbury), it’s magnificent stone carvings, along with the war memorial and market square, most be on anyone’s list of the ten greatest tourist destinations in the world. Social distancing wasn’t an issue – there weren’t that many folk about – and the locals speak in a way that will make you feel at home.
I took this photograph of the stone steps leading up the side of Godley Bridge in Halifax only yesterday. It was just after I had taken a picture of Beacon Hill and discovered that the What3Words geotag for that location was “submit.steep.spots”. When I looked at my photo of the steps later, I so wanted the geotag to be “steps.stone.shadows”. Alas, those three words have been allocated to a hillside in Villa De Vallecas, a few miles south-east of the Spanish capital, Madrid. It’s a pity: I bet they don’t have any stone steps there. The geotag for the Godley Bridge steps turns out to be “intelligible.spare.taking”. I’m still trying to find some meaning in that!
As the summer rolls on and the lockdown rules out picnics on the beach, sangria parties in smokey Balearic nightspots, and wild swimming adventures in the Barents Sea, I am restricted to my quest to scan my garden. Whilst cutting the lawn today, I plucked this seeded stem out of the ground and subjected the poor thing to a high resolution scan. The results gave me enough images to fill a holiday album.
Elland Power Station used to sit on the floor of the Calder Valley like a mucky residue, creating black shapes against a grey sky. It’s been replaced now by a bright business park; all very clean and the slightest bit boring.
A dead flower head. The stem and leaf thinks it’s in the peak of health, but the flower has crumpled into a shadow of its former self; like a deflated brown paper balloon. On some of these mornings, I know how it feels.
