Things seem to be picking up in my job this week. I’ve gone from being in the midst of a quiet patch to having several pieces of work fall at my feet. In part this is due to three members of our team leaving – one of whom I’ve known about for awhile, but the other two have come as a bit of a surprise – and I’ve been asked to pick up work they have been, or are currently involved with. This is a good thing – I’d much rather be busy than pushing papers around my desk (although I’ve mostly been using the quiet period to do training), but I’m a little uncertain as to what is required at this stage. I guess I’ll find out soon enough though.
When I was younger I was a prolific reader. During my late teens and early twenties I would devour novels, often getting through two or three in a week. I wouldn’t make any claims to being well read as a result of this – my preference was for horror and thrillers, and few of the titles I chose made it onto literary picks (although they did make it to the best seller lists quite often). Over time, with my job, my wife, and my children, as well as other interests competing for my time, I became slower at completing books (although I still read regularly). The internet, and more specifically, the ability to consume it on portable devices was the thing that hit my reading the hardest though. Even with the convenience of a Kindle, the amount of books I read fell through the floor. I was probably reading four books a year at most.
I’ve made efforts to rectify this recently, and my rate has increased a little, although I still need to make greater effort to favour a book over wasting time online. I almost always read in bed before I sleep but, as I’m often tired, it’s not unusual for me to read only a few pages before I nod off, so I really need to fit my reading into a time of the day when I’m more alert. Obviously, it also helps to have a book that is engaging. And that’s what I’ve had the pleasure of this week.
A few months ago, while browsing in Blackwell’s bookshop in Sheffield I spotted a book on the display table near the entrance. It had a yellow cover featuring a black and white photo of a pretty girl in a Smiths t-shirt. It was titled The Stirrings: Coming of Age in Northern Time and written by Catherine Taylor. It also had a wealth of recommendations from various reviewers on the front, but it was that evocative sub-title that caught my attention, I think.
Picking the book up, I read the precis:
This is a story about one young woman coming of age, and about the place and time that shaped her: the North of England in the 1970s and 80s. About the scorching summer of 1976 – the last Catherine Taylor would spend with both her parents in their home in Sheffield. About the Yorkshire Ripper, the serial killer whose haunting presence in Catherine’s childhood was matched only by the aching absence of her own father. About a country thrown into disarray by the nuclear threat and the Miners’ Strike, just as Catherine’s adolescent body was invaded by a debilitating illness. About 1989’s ‘Second Summer of Love’, a time of sexual awakening for Catherine, and the unforeseen consequences that followed it. About a tragic accident, and how the insidious dangers facing women would became increasingly apparent as Catherine crossed into to adulthood.
Seeing that the book, a memoir, was not only set (at least in part) in my home city, but that it also closely shared it’s place in time with my own coming of age, I added it to my list of books I’d like to read (in this case, by taking a photo of it on the display – I do this a lot in bookshops so I don’t forget about something interesting).
Not long afterwards, in early September, I spotted the Kindle edition for sale and snapped it up. It then joined a few dozen other books that I’ve added to my Kindle library in a growing “pile of shame” of books that I’ve bough but struggle to find the time to read. I tend to pick books at random from this selection, but after finishing another book, decided to bring this one to the top of the pile. I’m glad I did.
This is the first book in a long time that I’ve finished in the space of less than a week. It’s not a long book, sure, at 223 pages, but from the very first page I was hooked, and as well as actually sitting down to read for hours at a time, I’d also read a few pages whenever I had a spare few minutes. The sense of time and place was palpable and the book is beautifully written, telling the story of Catherine’s journey from childhood to adulthood, through the ups and downs, the adventures and the tragedies (it’s truly heartbreaking in places), all described with a wonderful honesty. Because of the Sheffield connection there are places and things and memories that were part of my youth too, albeit seen through my own particular lens of experience.
I’ve read many books that I’ve enjoyed, but it’s rare that I find one that makes me feel the way this one has. It’s a beautiful work and I now feel sad that not only have I finished it, but also because I have a sense of loss for the times described, a “forever young” nostalgia for a past that can’t be revisited other than in memory. I’m glad it had the power to move me.
…
As this is ostensibly a photography blog, I guess I should also say that I went out and made some photographs today. This isn’t an unusual thing, although it being midweek perhaps is, but I had a day off work and decided to head out into the Peak District to shoot three sheets of 4×5 large format Kodak Ektar that have been sat in film holders for a long time. As usual, the weather forecast was an outright lie, and the mixture of sunshine and cloud was actually just cloud without sunshine. This robbed me of some glowing autumnal colours but, making the best of what I had, it did make for soft light in the woodland area I visited.
Although I did shoot one sheet of Ektar late last year (still in one of the holders I used today!) I’ve not actually processed any C41 large format film before, so I now have to find a lab that I can send it to. I hope some of the shots are worthwhile as it certainly ain’t going to be cheap – probably the best part of £30 for four sheets! Wish me luck!
Today’s picture is apropos on nothing, really, but I find it evocative and, given what I’ve written about The Stirrings, I felt it was a good fit.
I had a worrying occurrence this morning when my PC suddenly stopped detecting my storage drive. It’s back up and running now – I think it might have been a loose connection and after opening the case and pushing the plugs into their sockets with my fingertips, it’s been working ok since. While my stuff is backed up, it’s prompted me to take on some extra assurance in the shape of additional backup processes. It’ll cost me more, but worth it for the peace of mind.
This guy hopped up on the harbour wall and scurried confidently back and forth, unperturbed by the drop into the sea on the other side. The tide was almost in at this point, and the drop was probably about 12-15 feet, so not too far to the water (and the sea was calm), but even with the variety of life-rings and people around, I still wouldn’t have fancied falling in.
Today’s picture shows the booking booth for the Yorkshire Belle, a pleasure boat that sails out of Bridlington on trips to nearby scenic points of interest such as Flamborough lighthouse, and the nature reserve at Bempton Cliffs where thousands of gannets roost.
The Yorkshire Belle was built in 1947 specifically to serve as a tourist boat and is the last of six such boats built to operate out of Bridlington between the 1920s and 1950s.
The boat’s future was put in jeopardy during the Covid pandemic when reductions in tourist numbers and social distancing rules meant she became unviable to operate and fundraising activity took place to prevent her loss. There’s an ITV Calendar news story covering the events.
There’s something about a bicycle, especially one propped against a fence, that seems to attract my eye. I don’t think I’m alone in this, and there are countless photographs of bicycles, both ridden and riderless to be found. I wonder if anyone has put down in words why they are a popular subject?
My own theory is that they make for a pleasing combination of geometric forms, a combination of circles, triangles and other polygonal shapes. They also make for interesting subject matter whether seen in full, or as detail – a wheel, a saddle, a chain for instance – and different points of view give even more variety – from the side, from the front, from above.
And once other factors are added to the mix there’s an almost limitless variety of pictures to be found. Every change of light, of type, of surroundings brings more into play.
The shot below is pretty simple. A bike leaning on a fence with the North Sea behind. I like the contrast of the dark bike against the bright railings. I also like the little incidental details caught by the shutter – the couple in the sea, the distant boat, and the kite that has fluttered into the edge of the frame.
The beach at Bridlington is backed by a sea wall along the stretch in front of the town north of the harbour area. This means there’s a good vantage point for looking down upon the sand and seeing the activities of the people enjoying the seaside, including writing messages in the smooth wet sand.
Despite my own spelling often being atrocious (albeit usually due to my inaccurate keystrokes, rather than an inability to spell), I seem to be quite good at seeing other peoples typos, such as the ones present in the first two pictures shared today. To be fair to the authors, it’s a lot easier to spot them from up on the promenade, than it probably is a beach level.
The third shot is spelt accurately, although it’s missing an apostrophe in “mums” and the spacing leaves a little to be desired. It’s not lacking in impact though, and I wonder what “mum” thought about the message?
Steel City Snapper photography 