Candy floss

There's an absolutely gorgeous cherry tree in full blossom by the almshouses in Saltaire village. What a joy these trees are at this time of year. I can quite understand the Japanese holding their hanami festivals. Who wouldn't like a bit of a party under this exuberant pink canopy?

HMRC: Here May Remembrance Cluster

I only feel mild nostalgia when I see what remains of my workplace for the last few years of my working life. The building is rapidly disappearing, making way for a new residential 'village' on the edge of Saltaire. It was formerly the tax office, HMRC's, banking centre. A year or so before I retired, in the devastating floods of Boxing Day 2015, the building suffered catastrophic damage from the river that runs along the rear boundary.  For about two years afterwards, staff were forced out, working initially from home and then at a site on the other side of Bradford. It was a strange time. I never did return to this office, though my colleagues did, after I retired. I've often wondered what happened to that banana that I left in my desk drawer! 

The diggers have not yet got round to the part where my desk was, but I'm sure the furniture was stripped out long ago. We were always told there was asbestos in the walls so I wonder how they've dealt with that or whether the fibres are simply puthering out in the dust! 

[To PUTHER: When a fire is lit, and there's lots of smoke and very little flame, it is puthering, or when there's a dust cloud flying about a room that too is puthering. 'To puther' or 'what a puther' Additional Information East Midlands, Nottingham, a word in use early 20th century if not before.] 

I'm revealing my origins in that turn of phrase! 

Tramsheds

This tramshed depot in Saltaire was built in 1904 for trams and later accommodated trolley buses. Electric trams ran on rails, powered by overhead wires, though before electricity there were horse-drawn trams (from 1882) and then (from 1893) steam-powered trams, which also acted as a postal service. The later trolley buses had overhead wires but rubber tyres. Bradford and Leeds had the earliest trolley bus system in the UK, from 1911, and Bradford's was the last in the UK to close down. 

I was a student at the university when the last trolley bus was withdrawn in 1972 so I do remember them. Some of them are preserved in Bradford's Industrial Museum. 

Saltaire's tramsheds are still there, now used by Salt Brewery, their taproom and a bar/restaurant. 

Face planters

It's only relatively recently that I realised that some of the planters in Roberts Park have faces on them.  They are not original to the park, being a fairly recent addition, though some of the stone plinths they stand on are older and are commemorative. The faces depict Sir Titus Salt (above), the founder of Saltaire, and his wife Lady Caroline (below).

The other pair are Sir James Roberts (above), at one time the owner of Salts Mill, and his wife Lady Elizabeth. For more about them, please see HERE.

An honour

The camera club I belong to meets in Addingham church hall through the autumn and winter months. Mostly therefore we arrive and leave in the dark. With the Easter break being fairly early this year, the last couple of meetings of this season have been a little later in the calendar than some years and it has been daylight when we've arrived. Getting there a little ahead of time this week (not much traffic on the way) it was lovely to discover all the cherry trees on the church drive in full blossom. They are mature trees and made a fine sight. I had time to take a few photos - on my phone as I don't take my camera to the camera club! 😂

The last meeting of the season is traditionally our AGM. We look back at all the images that gained awards in our year's competitions. Trophies and certificates are given out. To my great surprise I was awarded the Fairbrother Trophy, for services to the camera club, in recognition of the part I played in helping steer the club through the upheaval of the Covid pandemic. I was not expecting that and feel very touched and honoured that my contribution has been valued. It all feels like quite a long time ago now, doesn't it, but at the time it was really very disruptive and called for some radical thinking. Thankfully, photography as a visual hobby adapted quite well to meetings on Zoom - indeed we have carried on holding some Zoom get-togethers, as well as returning to the hall once the worst of the crisis was over. With hindsight, I think it had quite a positive effect overall. We all realised afresh how much we value the interaction with others, sharing our passion for photography. I think it has made us a more relaxed and friendly club, increasing the ways in which people can interact and socialise. We have informal meetings on Zoom and a lively programme of summer outings, which are valuable for sharing new photographic experiences and locations, as well as the chance to chat and get to know people better. 

Now then, all I need to do is to find a place to display the trophy, somewhere in my new flat! I might as well enjoy it. It's rather a grand thing, with a history dating back to 1969 (which to me doesn't sound that old - and then I realise that's 55 years ago! )

Spring greens

One thing that all the rain has ensured is that the newly minted spring greens are really vibrant. The swathe of grass beside the river in Roberts Park has a cheeky sprinkling of little daisies to enliven it. It's the geese, I think, that keep that area short, so the mower perhaps doesn't have to bother. Either way, the daisies will pop up again even if decapitated. 

The young trees are laced with a sprinkling of blossom. 

A tree in the college garden, making a good foreground for Salts Mill chimney, has leaves that are silvery rather than green. Very pretty. 

 

Cheery blossom

It's suddenly cheery cherry blossom time!  Spring is creeping along even though I'm personally not really 'feeling it'. However, on a sunny walk (in between sharp hail showers) everything looked far cheerier than it felt. It was cold! 

When they are in blossom, I always love the frothiness of the trees surrounding the bandstand in Roberts Park. Exuberant. 

Lively young things

I may not, myself, have been feeling very lively as I made myself trudge along the river path for the sake of the exercise, but there were several lively youngsters sculling smoothly up and down the river. The weekend seems to be the time when training takes place at the rowing club and there are usually coaches at strategic intervals along the bank, shouting guidance and encouragement. There must have been five or six boats using the stretch of river between the aqueduct and the weir. 

Another lively young thing that was diving and surfacing rapidly up and down the same stretch of water turned out to be a cormorant. It was too far away to get a decent photo on my phone. They are not rare but they are sufficiently uncommon hereabouts to be a source of interest and pleasure when I spot one. 

Impatience

As yet, we seem to have had none of those balmy days when you feel 'spring is in the air'. It's been too wet and windy, despite some days with quite warm temperatures. Patience is not a particular virtue of mine and I find I'm really longing for that sense that I usually get at this time of year, of new life springing up and better times ahead. Mother Nature, however, is not taking any notice and, when I walked beside the river, signs of spring were everywhere. The trees are beginning to transform with their fresh green froth of new leaves. There are wood anemones and celandines:

The wild garlic is beginning to unfurl its buds:

There are even some bluebells in flower on the south-facing slopes beside the river (though the more sheltered areas in the woodland didn't seem to have a blue haze as yet). 

It's just that I'm not 'feeling it'... 

I think the past few months, up to my house move, have been so stressful that I'm still recovering. I'm trying to eat, sleep and exercise healthily but a dreadful fatigue can quickly creep up on me. Some days I feel like my limbs are made of lead. I'm sure it will pass. It doesn't help that I'm still living in a certain amount of chaos, with boxes everywhere. The flat needs a new bathroom, complete redecoration and new flooring so, until that's done, there is little point in unpacking apart from what I'm using on a daily basis. As I said earlier, patience is not my forté and I would like it all done NOW, without the wait for trades to be scheduled and all the prep that needs doing. But, just like Mother Nature, it will all unfold in its own time. 

Salome in reverse?

Spotted in a Harrogate shop window... this elderly waiter was holding a rather lovely bronze head on a platter! I don't actually think the two were originally connected, but it made for an eye-catching display. It's a fascinating shop, full of quirky artwork, garden ornaments, sculptures and architectural antiques. Alongside the waiter there was a duck and a sleeping plaster cherub (or maybe baby Jesus?) 

Japanese garden

A small section of Harrogate's Valley Gardens has been set aside as a Japanese-inspired 'garden of serenity'. It has a little stream running through it and the arched bridge, echoed by the little cherry blossom tree, struck me as quite attractive.

I don't pretend to know much about Japanese gardens (or Japan, for that matter) but my parents had a gardener friend, who was married to a Japanese lady. He looked after the gardens at Newstead Abbey in Nottinghamshire and at one time created a very beautiful 'Japanese Garden' there. I believe they follow certain rules about what they contain and how they are arranged... 'feng shui' for gardens, type of thing. 

Elsewhere in the Valley Gardens the American 'Skunk Cabbage' was blooming; its distinctive yellow flowers are very dramatic. Classed as an invasive species here, it has by law to be contained and it's now illegal to import or sell it. 

There was an area of plants that were equally dramatic and looked rather like an alien species. I have no clue what they are. The leaves looked like a kind of gunnera but I don't know what the associated spikes are. It may be some kind of tree fern? Fascinating anyway. 

In Harrogate's Valley Gardens

Harrogate has long been celebrated for its spring flower displays. I remember, as a child, my parents brought us for the day to stroll in the gardens and enjoy the colour. (And we lived a couple of hours drive away in those days.) So, on yet another drizzly day, it was quite pleasant to spend the day in the town, mooching around the shops, with frequent coffee stops and then take a wander through the gardens to finish the afternoon. 

I particularly enjoyed the vibrant primary colours in the large flowerbeds around the café: mini daffodils, mini scarlet tulips and grape hyacinths. 

The rather endearing 'Cherub Fountain', two young boys playing in the water, is by an Australian sculptor, John Robinson. I understand it was bought by a local Harrogate councillor, on the spur of the moment, at the Chelsea Flower Show in 1972, and then presented to the park's department. 

I couldn't resist a closer view of those spring bulbs:

 

Glorying in colour, form and texture

Having explored the 'Colours Uncovered' exhibition in Harewood's State Rooms, I continued on the visitor route through the 'below stairs' area where the kitchens and storerooms are. It's a vast area; the household must have had an army of servants at one time. The kitchen is brim full of highly polished copper pans and moulds and, having just been thinking about colour, I was thrilled with the warm, soft reflections, akin to the glow of a fire or candles. 

Then I started noticing texture - the aged, battered wooden table top:

A stoneware jar that perhaps once held oil, judging by the stains on the sides:  

Some old sacking in a box: 

Lastly, a sturdy wicker hamper with a label that declared it had once held Venison, a consignment sent from Balmoral Castle in 1937 by HM the King (George VI, the father of the late Queen Elizabeth II) to his sister Mary, the Princess Royal and Countess of Harewood.

Harewood's State Rooms

Last time I visited Harewood House, the State Rooms were full of Christmas decorations, so it was lovely to explore them with fewer distractions. Robert Adam's wonderful plasterwork ceilings are in evidence in several of the rooms, like the Library above. 

My favourite chandelier (below) would reach from floor to ceiling and beyond in my new flat but here, in the Cinnamon Drawing Room, looks utterly magnificent and perfectly proportioned. 

The opulent State Bed, the most expensive piece of furniture the master cabinet maker Thomas Chippendale ever produced, which cost over £400 (that's £50,000 today) was only ever slept in twice - by Tsar Nicholas 1 of Russia, when he was the Grand Duke, and by Princess, later Queen, Victoria. 

In the Gallery, furnished by Chippendale's son, Thomas Junior, the pelmets are carved from wood designed to look like fabric. 

It's all so, so fabulous. The Lascelles family are very upfront about their historic links to the slave trade and the fact that the family money came from sugar plantations in Barbados. I suppose they can't do much about their past but they do take care to explain the history, share their vast collection of precious objects and artworks and to support, encourage and promote contemporary artists.

Colour celebrated

The 'Colours Uncovered' exhibition at Harewood House has some contemporary pieces as well as looking at items from the Harewood collection. I was most taken by these three wonderful handwoven pieces, 'Memory Garden', by Cecilia Charlton. She is an American artist and was inspired by the flowers found in British gardens. I don't know much about textiles or weaving but these seemed to me to be very complex pieces and I loved the skilful combinations of subtle colours and intricate patterns. 

There were three fascinating paintings by the British artist James Hugonin, who creates works composed of individual coloured marks across a grid, systematically planned so they are not simply random placings.

I'm afraid I neglected to note the creator of the series of four panels below. I did, however like them for their boldness, clarity and lyrical use of colour. 

The older I get the more I realise I love colour and I'm resolved to use more of it in my new flat, since I have the luxury of completely redecorating it. It's a fairly modern, almost boxy space, very different in feel and scale from my previous Edwardian terrace. It's going to be fun.