I'm getting old. More and more, I seem to be sitting at my desk messing around with old photographs rather than getting out and about taking new ones. The original of this photo was taken in March 2016 from a train leaving Bradford and heading for Halifax, but this version was created while sitting at my desk last night. I've always been attracted to these shapes and colours. But, there again, I'm getting old.
The Hebble Brook has an odd relationship with the town of Halifax. Over history, it has had such a defining impact on the town, carving its valleys and draining its hills, and yet now it slips almost unnoticed towards its rendezvous with the Calder - sometimes above ground, sometimes culvert-deep in the darkness. I demand a "We Love The Hebble Day" with lantern-boats and coloured streamers.
A very good old friend came to visit yesterday and we went for lunch to a very good old inn. I've been visiting the Old White Beare in Norwood Green for more than half a century, but that's only a moment in the life of this 500-year-old village pub. Some of the timbers within the pub are even older, having been part of an Elizabethan galleon that took on the Spanish Armada. Seated within such history, we felt quite young.
I've given this photo the title "Albert and the Giant Spanner". As far as I can be certain, that is my father, Albert, on the left, which would mean that the photograph was taken about 1930 when he was a young apprentice in Bradford. I'm not sure what the giant spanner was used for, but it's a great photograph.
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