This is a view through the window of The Ship Inn. On Shalesmoor. In Sheffield. And, to continue the alliteration, it is shut.
Many pubs in the UK are closed at present because of stricter lockdown measures currently in place. While the rules differ across the four nations that make up the UK (England, Northern Ireland, Scotland, and Wales), here in England pubs must remain closed unless thay are providing takeaway meals.
This situation will remain in place until early December at least, when the current rules will be reviewed. However, given the desire to allow people to see one another at Christmas – something itself fraught with risk – I don’t expect that pubs will re-open to anything approaching normal rules for a long time.
I suspect there will be fewer pubs come the end of this pandemic.
Globe Works is a former cutlery factory situated in the Shalesmoor area of sheffield.
The building has a Grade II listed status and was renovated in the 1980s. The building is now home to a number of businesses, creative endeavours, and start-ups.
The works dates back to 1824 and was one of the largest specialist steel-making facilities in the world at the time, and possibly the first ever custom-built cutlery factory. As well as cutlery, they produced scissors, tools, and even specialised in the manufacture of Bowie knives for the American market.
The building has seen off a number of threats through its history, including a bombing by union activists in 1843, an attempt to remove the listed status by the town planning committee so it could be bulldozed to make way for a road, and, most recently – in 1978 – an arson attack that left the site derelict until the restoration work took place in the 1980s.
This is the corner of The Fat Cat, a pub in Sheffield’s Kelham Island area – somewhere I seem to make a lot of photographs, despite living nowhere near the the place.
The Fat Cat dates back to the Victorian era, being built in 1850. As a result of it’s age, and it’s position close to the course of the River Don, it was affected by the flood in 1864 when Dale Dyke resevoir collapsed catastrophically, killing over 240 people as the water descended it’s course to the centre of the city.
One-hundred-and-forty-three years later the pub was once again engulfed by flood water, this time caused by torrential rain. Three people lost their lives in this event.
The pub has two markers painted on it’s wall denoting the water level of both floods.
I got up early on the day that I made this photograph as I was hoping that there would be some mist. Across the road that runs in front of this Aldi supermarket (to the right of this scene) there is a meadow. The near half consists of an area where livestock graze sometimes – I’ve seen both cows and sheep in there when I’ve passed by. The fields border Renishaw golf course, and the River Rother forms a second boundary line, beyond which is further farm land where the ground begins to rise out of the valley.
When there is low-lying mist here at sunrise, it can look very beautiful (even if there is a line of pylons in the distance). Alas, on this morning, the hoped-for mist had let me down. Not wanting to return home completely empty-handed, I decided to make a picture of the Aldi. It’s not the most glamourous of scenes, but it has it’s own commercial charm. Plus, the pastel shades in the pre-sunrise sky behind the store were a treat.
I took three shots of the scene, which is unusual for me. I rarely bracket my exposures, preferring to try and maximise the number of unique images I can get from a roll of film. However, given the fussy nature of Velvia 50 when it comes to exposure and my slightly limiting (for this scene) incident meter, I decided to use a few frames to ensure a good chance of a decent result. It was a good decision as the first two images were very underexposed. This third one could have done with a bit more light in the foreground too, but I think it just about gets by with what it has.
Bronica ETRSi, Zenzanon 75mm f/2.8 PE & Fujichrome Velvia 50.
Just a few days ago I said that I was at the end of my autumn colour images for this year. Well. turns out I’m not – I forgot about this roll of Velvia 50 that I shot on a walk along the Chesterfield Canal near Thorpe Salvin a few weeks ago.
The roll was tricky to meter with confidence. Given that I don’t have a spot meter (just a reflective setting that’s has a pretty wide angle and no meand to accurately point it) I almost always use incident readings instead. Incident metering usually serves me very well, but a canal withich has irregular tree cover along it’s banks makes it difficult to match the light falling on the meter with the subject unless it’s pretty close by, or you’re sure it’s in the same levels of light.
As a result, quite a few of the images on this roll are poorly exposed, and the ones here are probably the best from the canal-side walk.
Of the four, the sycamore leaf below is the best I think (even if it did keep attempting to blow away in the light but irregular breeze!).
Bronica ETRSi, Zenzanon 75mm f/2.8 PE & Fujichrome Velvia 50.
One more photo from Woodhouse Washlands. This willow tree has suffered some sort of catastrophe at some point, it’s tunk ruptured and folded down to ground level, but such is the tenacity of the tree that it lives on, thriving boughs rising at angles from the fallen section.
I was pleased with the results here. I opened up the aperture to soften the otherwise distracting background, but didn’t have a tripod, so had to carefully hand-hold the shot to maintain focus on the texture in the broken wood.
At the northern end of Woodhouse Washlands, close to the old route of the A57 road, this piece of public art sits beside the footpath. Next time I pass I’ll look to see if there’s a plaque or something with information about it, but I’m presuming its part of the winding equipment from one of the old, now gone, collieries that were nearby at Beighton and Orgreave. It now has the outlines of multiple trout cut into the wheel. I’m not sure if the concrete base denotes part of old mine workings – the sites of extinct shafts are sometimes capped off with large slabs like this.
This hawthorn tree stands beside the River Rother and its twisted trunk made for an appealing photograph. I had to duck beneath the tree’s canopy to get this picture and, as I had no tripod, open up the aperture to get a good shutter speed (and also to throw the river and far bank out of focus).
Back to the black and white stuff (at least for a roll). While taking a walk on the wetlands beside the River Rother not far from home (luckily, Sheffield is a very hilly city, so we’re in no danger of flooding where our house is) I spotted this lone can of Nourishment left atop a fencepost close to the road where I’d parked. I’ve never drank the stuff myself, but I believe it’s some sort of sugary milkshake thing – not sure just how nourishing it is exactly…
I liked how the lone can looked though and made my first shot of the roll.
Ok, maybe not the most autumnal shades here – more a yellow green than fiery shades of red and orange – but it’s probably the last shot from this year’s clutch of seasonal images where the trees still bear foliage. Today, as I type this, most of the leaves have fallen, littering the pavements and roadsides where they’ll release that rich scent of autumn so evokative of this time of year. There are still some late straggling leaves on the limbs of silver birches – some still green in fact – but most trees have revealed the skeletal form of their branches now.
I still have autumnal images yet to come, but they are of the misty, damp, almost monochromatic feel of late autumn as it rolls over into winter.
Yashica Mat 124G & Lomography Color Negative 100. Grain2Pixel conversion.