Fear not, the blog is not about to become a source of wildlife pictures, but I thought I’d post this picture of a lone Jackdaw today. I’ve been out with friends all afternoon and am a little tipsy, so felt a relatively straightforward post might be the best option…hic…
My recent day trip to Castleton was shared with a group of online friends who I know from a photography forum. I’ve been on similar outings in the past, but this was the first one since the covid pandemic.
I’m normally a lone-wolf when it comes to photography. I can immerse myself in what I’m doing without distraction, and I find I rarely make my best pictures if I’m with company. However sometimes it’s nice for photography to be a shared experience, especially when your companions share the passion and (sometimes) the disappointments. Even more so when they are fellow film shooters.
It was a good day and I hope to repeat it before too long.
Another shot made with my 28-300mm zoom lens that I wouldn’t have been able to achieve before. Actually, that’s probably not strictly accurate – my Zuiko 75-150mm might have done a decent job had I been shooting with one of my Olympus SLR’s. Still, I wouldn’t have been able to make this shot previously with my other Nikon gear, the longest lens I have for that format being a 105mm macro lens.
The conditions could have been better for this picture. Although it was still quite early in the day (before 9am) the sun was already beating down and there was a lot of haze and otherwise clear blue skies.
I like how Peveril Castle is perched up on the hillside in the background though.
Mam Tor is a large hill that sits at the top of the Hope Valley above Castleton. It translates as “Mother Hill”, and is so named because frequent landslips have resulted in a series of smaller hills on its slopes. Another name for the hill is “The Shivering Mountain”, which I like because it sounds like some place in Middle Earth. Mam Tor is 1,692 feet tall and forms part of a line of hills known as the Great Ridge which separate the Hope Valley from Edale.
I took this photo on my recently acquired Tamron 28-300mm superzoom, which I bought as a useful all-round lens for hikes in the countryside. I’ve found that compact cameras, while being convenient to carry, tend to limit my ability to photograph more distant subjects. This outing to Castleton was a bit of a test outing for the lens, and I’m happy with the results, especially the vibration reduction which works perfectly with my Nikon F80. Any zoom lens with a focal length range as large as this will have some shortcomings, but they’re not too noticeable on 35mm film.
For some reason, this particular shot of Mam Tor has ended up very grainy – much more so than the other frames from the same roll.
Today has been a tiring day. Not because I’ve been busy, but because I decided to pull an all-nighter and watch yesterday’s General Election results as they came in through the night. Apart from a short nap at about 1am in the morning for an hour or so, I have been awake since 7am yesterday morning.
I feel like the towel in this picture, and I’ve caught myself nodding off while sat upright a number of times now!
After yesterday’s post about the sad story of The Marples, here’s another Sheffield pub with a point of interest.
The name probably gives away the fact that there is a connection with the mail service, but the interesting fact is (and I’ve not verified this) is that it is the only pub in the country that is built into a Royal Mail building, in this case the Sheffield City Delivery Office. I once went into the delivery office as a child (my nan was a postwoman) and was fascinated by the sight of hundreds of bags of mail moving around the plave on a suspended rail system. How much fun it would have been to ride around the place in a mail bag, I thought.
The building in today’s photograph houses a pawn broker and a self-storage facility, but it was once a pub called The London Mart, although known as Marples by regulars (after it’s owner, John Marples). It is possibly the most famous bar in the city due to the tragedy which befell it during the Second World War.
On the night of Thursday December 12, 1940, the pub received a direct hit from a high-explosive bomb dropped by the German Luftwaffe. The building was destroyed, collapsing into a pile of rubble, killing 70 people from the estimated 77 who were inside at the time. It was initially thought that no-one could have survived the attack, but when rescue activities began the next day seven people were pulled from the wreckage of the building, including two who walked away unaided, never to be heard from again!
Following the destruction, the site lay derelict for 19 years until, in 1959, a new pub was built on the site, this time officially named The Marples. The pub remained open for the next 44 years until it closed for good in 2003, the building taking on a number of different uses in the following two decades. While the space previously occupied by the pub is now the Cash Shop pawn brokers, the upper floors have revived The Marple’s naming and are to become a housing co-operative.
This is a somewhat unassuming picture of the building that currently houses Heron Foods, a frozen foods store, on Haymarket in Sheffield. The structure managed to survive the ravages of The Blitz that destroyed much of Sheffield’s old city centre architecture during World War Two.
What I find more interesting is the faded sign that can be seen in the middle first floor window. This advertises The House of Curls, a hairdressing salon that was in business during the 1970s and 1980s, but which has been closed now for the best part of forty years I believe. Apparently, the salon housed a number of booths on the upper floors which were rented out by the operator to individual hairdressers.
It pleases me that the signage remains after this time. There’s something strangely comforting about ghost signs such as this. Things change, but the memories remain.
Do you know that old Randy Crawford song, Street Life? Yes? Well, no matter how many times I hear it, I always sing it as “Street Light“. A bit like Neil Diamond singing about “The Reverend Bluejeans“.
Street light, you can run away from time Street light, for a nickel, for a dime Street light, but you better not get old Street light, Or you’re gonna feel the cold