It is now sixty years since I came across this scene - somewhere above Claremount Road in Halifax if I remember rightly - but it's a sight I'll never forget. It's almost as though someone had carefully composed the scene, bringing together car, cart, bathtub and a couple of old masters in order to create a surrealistic vision on the hills above Halifax.
There is something rather sad about the fact that this is an unknown family member - such a characterful face, such a promising pose, should never become unknown. But she lives on, she graces multiple streams of social media, she continues to radiate charm, long after the horse-hair stuffing has deserted the armchair.
I miss picture postcards: that unique combination of image and words and that alignment of the public picture and the private message. They have survived a century or more and provide us with a bookmark for all our history and for all our yesterdays. This one - featuring the Scottish town of Alexandria - was sent to my Great Uncle Fowler Beanland and was passed down the generations to me. Try doing that with a text message!
I took the photograph that was the start of this image the other day as I wandered around Halifax waiting for my dental appointment. Since then, I have poked and prodded it, scraped and flossed it, and finished up with something which is quite pleasant to look at. Not sure you can say the same thing about my teeth, however.
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