Bradford by night

I don't often go into Bradford at night so it was interesting to see how the recent pedestrianisation has improved the environment, making safe walkways and all attractively lit. Last year's City of Culture award provided the impetus for many improvements. I don't know if the clock tower on City Hall is always so colourful but it gave a nice effect in the distance. 

It's perhaps a pity that the Wool Exchange, a magnificent Victorian building, is not better illuminated. You can see its shadowy presence in the centre of the photo below.

On the route down to Forster Square rail station, the dark arches under the viaduct have been fenced off. This was somewhat controversial, as they used to be home to quite a gathering of rough sleepers. People complained that they were being 'sanitised' because of the City of Culture initiative. I guess they were and I'm not sure whether alternative provision was made. There seem now to be a lot of folk bedded down in shop doorways, all over the place. Now the arches are lit at night and looked quite intriguing... better than they look during the day! 

Breathe

There's a new mural in Bradford, on the side of The Broadway shopping centre. Called 'Breathe, breathe, breathe', it gets its inspiration from lyrics by Zayn Malik, Bradford singer-songwriter and former member of the band One Direction. It was painted by street artist Ricky Also, as part of BD:Walls for the City of Culture 2025. Nice colours, bold typography, a good position right in the city centre and a reminder, perhaps, to pause in the busy rush of city life.

You:Matter

I made use of a drizzly, cold day by calling into the Science and Media Museum in Bradford, to catch the 'immersive art experience' called You:Matter, before it closes in March. It was actually most interesting and enjoyable.

'This digital interactive experience blends art, science and creative technologies to make the invisible visible. Explore the web of relationships that bond us to the universe—from the stars in the sky to every living cell, through the air we breathe, the water we drink and the food we eat. It is a playful exploration of the invisible rhythms that underpin your life on Earth, offering a fresh perspective on the world you thought you knew.'

It started with the Big Bang: 'As a human being, you are part of a vast wave of energy that began with the explosion that created our universe.'

It explored the elements (about 20) that we are made from: 

It noted that even our breathing is part of an intricate web of existence. We inhale oxygen breathed out by plants and give back carbon dioxide to them. This was illustrated by a tree. When you breathed into a tube, lots of little blue lights swirled towards the tree. Rather lovely. 

There was a satellite data image showing the daily carbon flow around the world. Escaping carbon, from creatures like ourselves, burning fossil fuels, erupting volcanoes etc, is what plants use to grow, but in a very fragile balance. Carbon needs to be traded evenly.  

It talked about how we are mostly made of water, part of the cycle of water that falls to earth and makes streams and glaciers, the sea, water vapour, rain: solid to liquid to gas and back again. It explained how every meal we eat is powered by sunlight that is spun into glucose (sugar) by plants. We are solar energy, a web of life woven out of light.  

It described the Tree of Life, every living thing on earth descended from one common ancestor - illustrated by a colourful display of plants and creatures forming and then disintegrating into dust, before re-forming as something else. 

I found it very engaging, wonder-full. I wish science had been like that when I was at school. I wish we could bear it in mind in this world of deep divisions. We are all the same stuff! 

Whither the weather?

So far here in West Yorkshire we seem to have avoided the worst of the winter weather that other parts of the UK have suffered: snow, particularly in Scotland; wind and flooding in the South-West. It has certainly been damp and miserable but nothing terrible. It sometimes makes for interesting photos. I stopped at the top of High Bank Lane (aptly named!) to enjoy the storm clouds along the valley, looking towards Baildon Moor.  

Another morning, I drew back the curtains to discover thick fog outside. I had an appointment for a cut and blow-dry at a hair salon on Gordon Terrace. By the time I went out, the sun was breaking through and burning off the mist. I enjoyed how the light was catching the trees that grow on the waste ground (what was once a small quarry, I think) on the walk down. Despite my neatly coiffed (for once!) head, I decided on a walk before I returned home but, during the hour of my appointment, the fog had totally disappeared. It made for an enjoyable walk in the sunshine, which was actually remarkably warm for the time of year.  

Yorkshire humour (repost)

I was obviously suffering from a lack of current photos to post on my blog even as far back as 2010.... This was my offering for 1st February that year, a bit of Yorkshire humour, so I thought it worth repeating:

'I guess even the most enthusiastic bloggers must sometimes have to raid the archives for inspiration and I'm no exception.  (We could call it 'blogger's block'!)  I came across this photo that I took a few months ago, of an old cemetery near Heptonstall, up on the hills above Hebden Bridge. My dad would have called it the dead centre of Yorkshire - and there isn't much more to say about it. (Although it is near the comically-named hamlet of Slack Bottom, whose name I have always enjoyed!)  And it does give me an excuse to tell you one of my favourite Yorkshire dialect jokes:

An elderly Yorkshireman was distraught when his devoted - and devout - wife died. His only comfort was knowing she had gone to be with the Lord. He gave much thought to what to put on her memorial stone and eventually decided Lord, she was Thine would be appropriate. When he went to view the stone, however, he was dismayed to find it had been inscribed Lord, she was thin. He immediately contacted the stonemason, telling him: "You've missed off the 'E' ". The mason replied that he was sorry but it was no problem and he would correct it. When the widower went again to see the stone, he found it now said: Ee Lord, she was thin.'

Keeping heritage alive

I used to walk this way, through Salts Mill's yard, almost every day when I was at work. It was either a good lunchtime walk to stretch my legs or, occasionally, a different route home. I rarely need to use this path any more, though I always enjoy seeing the big mill chimney at close quarters. 

Plaques on the wall remind us that alpacas were the source of the wool that made Sir Titus Salt's fortune. He was one of the first to use it at a large scale, combining it with sheep's wool to make a fine and lustrous cloth. 

The sliding doors on the warehouses along this route are usually closed, so I was delighted to find them open and to get a glimpse inside... huge bales of raw wool! 

This is the premises of H Dawson, 'Wool Experts since 1888'. I've looked at their website HERE and find that they source, grade and clean wool for supply to other businesses, who use it in a variety of ways in soft furnishings, mattresses, wadding, pillows, carpets, yarns and knitwear. It seems eminently fitting that there is still a wool heritage craft located in this great temple of the wool industry. Long may it continue. 

Classic view

I guess I'm not alone in finding this time of year quite difficult. Everywhere looks so drab, and it's so cold and damp. I have to use willpower to make myself go out and I'm certainly not inspired photographically when there is little 'good' light. This classic view of Salts Mill's vast south frontage, seen from the Victoria Road allotments, is one I can easily take for granted. Familiarity means we forget how mind-blowing the huge mill really is. The West and East Mills, the parts you can see here, are just a fraction of it. Some of these huge rooms once held the spinning machines, and are now art galleries and shops.   

Land of hope and glory

Saltaire is still, for lots of reasons, a desirable place to live. It's a thriving and creative community, and the houses, built in the mid-1800s as homes for the mill workers at Salts Mill, remain comfortable. Many are quite small but they are sought after by young people starting out on the housing ladder and by a few older people choosing to downsize. 

Wandering through the streets, I often wonder what it must have felt like to those early residents, moving from the disease-ridden slums of the city out to what was then truly a 'greenfield site'. The village was well planned and relatively spacious; its homes comfortable, with plenty of light and their own private backyards. 

From the bottom of the streets, you still see the green of Hope Hill rising up, across the other side of the river. I wonder if it felt like 'a land of hope and glory' to those hard-working folk who first lived here?  

Fountains Abbey

Since I've run out of current photos until I can go somewhere interesting, and since we've recently had a look at Bolton Priory, I thought I'd repost a collection of my images of Fountains Abbey. Up near Ripon, it's probably one of the UK's most stunning ruined abbeys, now a World Heritage Site. It was a Cistercian monastery, founded in 1132, and became one of the wealthiest in England due to its extensive landholdings. That didn't stop Henry VIII dismantling it in the 1500s, and then it was sold and became part of a landowner's estate, eventually becoming a 'romantic ruin' in a vast garden site. It's now in the care of the National Trust. 

I'll let the photos speak for themselves. It's apparent that I often visit in winter! That avoids some of the crowds that converge in summer, though it's always busy. I just might drive over there again soon, though not until the weather has improved a bit.  For more about it's history, see HERE. 

Shop local

One of the advantages of living where I do now is that there are local shops within a few minutes walk. At the moment I still do a weekly supermarket shop but, more and more, I'm enjoying just popping down to Gordon Terrace to supplement that. There's a Co-op that has milk, store cupboard items and even a few gluten free things - bread and cakes - which is helpful for me. It does sell fruit and veg but if I need those I buy from the specialist greengrocer, The Orange Grove. They are a little more expensive but usually good quality. I can buy exactly the quantity I need, even if that's just a couple of carrots or one jacket potato. They also stock more unusual items that the supermarkets often don't have: pomegranates, Jerusalem artichokes, heritage tomatoes. On some days of the week you can buy fresh fish here too. During the Covid lockdown this shop was a real lifeline for people. They even started a delivery service. I'm very much hoping they're still in business at whatever point in the future I need to give up my car and truly shop local. 

A hop to Skipton

I had a number of errands to do in Skipton. It's a busy market town about half an hour's drive from here. It has the advantage that it's easy to get many of the things you need in quite a compact area. I find there's something truly satisfying about being economical in my movements. I had the car washed; got my glasses realigned so they don't press on my nose; purchased the expensive eyedrops that only my optician stocks; bought some walking poles in one of Skipton's many 'outdoor' shops; stocked up on dried fruit and nuts relatively cheaply from the store that sells them in bulk; explored a new yarn shop that several friends had recommended; had a walk along the canal and enjoyed coffee and cake in a lovely café near the canal basin. Then I finished off with my weekly supermarket shop in Keighley on the way home. All most satisfying and a good use of a fairly chilly, dull, damp day. 

There was a lady feeding bread to the gulls and pigeons. That is definitely not encouraged but people don't take any notice! 

 

The struggle is real

We are nearing the end of January and I don't think winter has fully played out yet. A very cold spell was followed by a mild, wet spell - and it seems that has enticed some of the buds out. The shrub above is a camellia. They do flower early and that leaves them very prone to frost damage, which is a shame as they are such beautiful blooms. 

There are catkins in abundance on the trees bordering Caroline Street car park. 

Crocuses also tend to flower in February-March and they are already pushing through the grass in Roberts Park.

But, oh dear, look at this... Where they flower on the grassy bank leading down to the river, there is more mud than grass. Part of the reason is the very wet weather. Part of the reason too is that they have had the path under the footbridge closed for months (despite the fact that the remedial work on the footbridge is supposed to have been completed). That means that people walk over the grass to reach the viewing area by the weir, and that footfall has worn away most of the grass. In a good year the area looks like THIS - but I don't think 2026 is going to be a good year for them, somehow! 

All the rain does mean there's plenty of water rushing over the weir, which is always good to see. I love the shapes and crests that the water makes. 

Another place where the struggle is real is the Wash House Gardens, a small garden square in the centre of Saltaire. It was originally the site of the Victorian wash house and baths, which were intended to support the residents of the village (whose newly built and, for that time, well-equipped homes had outdoor privies in their back yards but no indoor bathroom). The facilities so thoughtfully provided by Sir Titus Salt were, however, not well used. People seemed to prefer to bathe (in tin baths in front of the fire) and do their laundry at home. In the late 1800s the wash house building was converted to housing and then demolished in the 1930s. Now it's a volunteer maintained garden, so it is sad to see that once again there appears to have been a theft of the slabs around the raised beds. It's happened several times before. Yorkshire stone is valuable. It's heartbreaking for those who put time and effort into caring for the gardens. 

There's rather a lot to be depressed about in the state of our world at the moment, I'm afraid. 

Twilight, Albert Terrace

It's no wonder that Albert Terrace is used so often as a film location. It is very atmospheric, and timeless (at least when there aren't too many cars visible). I love it best at twilight when the moody shadows add even more character. 

 

Murky

We Brits have a reputation for talking about the weather all the time. It's no doubt deserved, though is it any wonder when our days can be so markedly different from each other? In this small part of our world, since the New Year, we've had frost, ice, a dusting of snow and temperatures below zero, rain, mist and damp drizzle with temperatures above average for this time of year, plus a few days of crisp, bright sunshine. To be honest, I wouldn't like to live anywhere where the weather is the same all the time but even so the rapid changes have been dizzying. 

The ice stops me venturing out. To make sure I get the exercise I need, I therefore have to brave the rainy, damp days. I don't really mind. There's something soothing about a walk in the drizzle, when there are many fewer people about. It's fine provided you have appropriate clothing. 

As an illustration, I took these two photos from roughly the same spot just two days apart. (Some idiot in the meantime churned up the football field with - presumably- a quad bike. Grr.) 

I had to laugh one day when I saw this - that's me all over!! I only have a tolerance range of about 12ºC.

Talking of which, you remember on Christmas Eve I went to watch the Calderdale charity tractor run (and got thoroughly chilled to the bone.) Well, I just read that they raised a total of £25,141.35 for charity, so very well done to them all.  (That's over $36,600, for my US readers.)