A familiar scene for anyone who’s followed my blog for a while – the Beighton Station signalbox. I think I’ve mentioned before that the signalbox is scheduled for demolition due to signalling and the level crossing now being controlled remotely. A local effort was made to try and save the signalbox but this appears to have fallen through with the proposed cost to move it to a new location being in the region of a quarter of a million pounds.
At the same time however, I’ve heard that plans to reopen Beighton Station are moving forward, the idea being (I believe) to have a tram-train service that runs between Sheffield and Chesterfield, with Beighton being one of the stops. I don’t expect that it will be much of a station in the traditional sense – most likely a couple of platforms, some bus-stop-style shelters, and a car-park to allow park-and-ride services for commuters. I think it will be a good thing to have though and can imagine it being especially popular in the warmer months if it used as a means for people in other parts of the city to get access to the nearby Rother Valley Country Park.
I’ll be sad to see the signalbox go though.
An old signalbox Its functionality gone To another place
Teazels backlit by the winter sunshine. I used the 70-200mm for this and was at the very edge of close focue when I made the shot. The sun was bright enough to allow a decent shutter speed, although I think the lens was at it’s widest aperture.
Spiked halos shine bright As winter sunshine lights up Dry vegetation
Takeaways, a cafe, a tattoo parlour, and an empty salon make up this row of shops about a mile from home. This is probably a bit of a record shot really, but it’s the sort of thing that will mature with age as the shops change hands and purpose and the cars become old fashioned. I enjoy looking at photos depicting places how they used to be, and perhaps in a decade or two, this one will fit that bill too.
Time moves. Places change So dull contemporary Becomes nostalgic
We’ve had quite a lot of snow so far this winter. I mean that in terms of how much we normally get though, which is generally very little. I can’t remember it snowing at all last year – certainly not to settle on the ground. While other parts of the country see snow more often, and higher elevation areas not too far from us can be seen to be white-capped when everywhere else is bereft of the stuff, we don’t tend to see it often at home. Occasionally, every few years though (maybe a result of ripples of effect from El Nino or some other climate event elsewhere on the globe) we get more snow than usual.
It’s not often more than a couple of inches, but in 2018 we had a good foot of snowfall. Since Christmas, we’ve had three days where enough snow has fallen to coat the ground and roads, and two of those occasions provided enough for snowman building and sledging. I’ve heard rumblings on the news that there may be chance of a cold spell into next week too but, as a photographer, I know that weather forecaster’s predictions should be treat with some caution. Whatever the case, I wonder if 2021 will be a snowy year hereabouts?
We don’t get much snow Some years there’s barely a flake To fall on the ground
Today’s photo was made after the first of the three snow days we’ve had so far.
I’ve made a considerable number of shots of these skips recently. Some on this roll, and others on the following couple of rolls too. Part of this is down to lockdown restrictions reducing the number of places I can make pictures, but also because I think there are a number of interesting photos to be had in this location. There are maybe two or three dozen skips of varying sizes on an area of land outside a metal recovery firm and, after rain, large puddles form and create further compositional options. The skips are in a number of different colors and, as is the way with such objects, all have varying degrees of rust, dents, and other interesting patina. It’s an industrial “edgelands” type location that may not be to all tastes, but beauty and interest lies in the eye of the beholder.
Lunchtime walk in snow Approaching the nearby lake The sound of some geese
I have a sense of aimlessness today. A struggle to focus. The feeling that I’m doing things for the sake of it and that I’m missing something important. I’m sure it will pass, but I’ll certainly be glad when it does.
I’ll still write my amateurish haikus though. 🙂
I’m wandering aimlessly With things still to do Procrastinating
I’ve walked near and crossed over this footbridge on many, many occasions, and have made the odd photo of it. This was the first time I had a telephoto lens on the camera though and it gave a whole new perspective.
I’ve posted a similar image to this one before as part of my experiences with a Zeiss 6×9 folder last year. And I shall be posting another before too long – again with a 6×9 camera from almost the same spot and composition (but not conditions, and without the faultily aligned lens issue). There’s certainly no shortage of power line / pylon photos in the blog, and I guess they’ll continue to turn up with a degree of frequency as long as it runs, but I like the particular point of view in this image because the structures are aligned as far as the eye can see.
Play Safe they told us Children of the recent past Danger in power
This pollarded willow tree sits at the southern end of Woodhouse Washlands close to the A57 flyover (in fact, you can see the shadow of the flyover at the base of this image – I thought about cropping it out, but it would take the foot of the tree closer to the edge of the frame than I’d like). The field was pretty muddy and had a considerable number of cow pats deposited about on the day so I decided to use the zoom lens to get me closer. While it may not be to everyone’s taste, I like the contrast of the fields and trees on the left with the industry of the pylons and factory units to the right. The track fills the gap at bottom right nicely too.
Pollarding cuts trees off at height, not at the base as coppicing does
It’s one of those days where I can think of little to say. I’ve found a photo to publish and written one of my (likely not very good) haikus, but otherwise I’m suffering from a brain full of tumbleweed. So I’ll leave it at that and hope normal service resumes shortly.
If you look up close See a small figure crossing And heading downhill