Lo and Behold
Well that was a turn up for the books. As I peeked out of the bedroom window at 6:30am on Easter Sunday I saw a good three inches of snow covering everything. Deep. Crisp. Even.So up I got, packed the camera and walked round to our local beauty spot. Everywhere I looked I saw photo opportunities as this Mancunian suburb of mine put on its best clothes and smiled for a picture or two. I took my obligatory shot of the Manchester city centre skyline from a nearby vantage point and slid my way to Daisy Nook.
I was out for just over two hours and I walked for about five miles. All-in-all a great way to start the day. As the sun got higher the snow began to melt and I felt it was time to head home to bacon and eggs and a steaming mug of tea. Bliss.
Not many people about - just a few hardy souls with dogs to walk and other poor sods with jobs that make them work on Easter Sunday. Even postman get that off. An old fellow with a bright red face and a week's stubble told me to hurry up as the snow wouldn't last and I should take as many pictures as I could. So I did. Snaps below.
Incidentally Goldfrapp's new album is a pastoral masterpiece. Download it now.








Thought I'd try a different treatment on this one.
6 comments:
Deep, crisp even!? I'll let you know I've been humming 'Good King Wenceslas' all morning after reading that.
Nice photos though.
Your photos are, as always, a joy.:)
Daisy Nook! It must have been the snow, but a bit like A Christmas Carol, I was transported back to the time when I walked through the place when I was much, much younger.
Great photographs, as always.
Bill
These other souls you saw out and about - were they by any chance matchstalk men with matchstalk dogs? You never mentioned the cats.
Dear Steve,
I seem to have been blocked out of your invitations-only blog. Have I insulted you somehow? Was it the reference to LS Lowry? I have enjoyed dipping in to your blog and I thought we were cyber mates.
Yours miserably,
Mr Pudding
Great pics!. Wish we had snow sometimes. I love the way it transforms the familiar.
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