Picture of The Day

Sci-Fi stir-fry

Under certain culinary circumstances, namely stir-fry at sunset, our kitchen turns into a scene from a science-fiction movie.

Cherry tomatoes

I was drinking cranberry juice at lunchtime in the garden, when I noticed the way these cherry tomatoes looked through the bottom of my glass.

Station lamp

Our Victorian engineers and architects knew exactly what to do with wood and metal.

British railway architecture, when lovingly restored with attention to detail and quality, as here, offers a variety of subjects to explore with a camera lens.

Old doors

Old doors tell their stories through the scars on their faces.

I find it’s much the same with people.

Flat world?

I find there’s something weird about looking at a two-dimensional black and white picture locked inside a three-dimensional colour image. But then again, it’s all really only 2-D, isn’t it?

Spiral staircase, Wells

A spiral staircase insists that I look down it from the top, in spite of my insurmountable fear of heights. I've climbed the insides of Gaudi's giant, coronet cathedral spires in Barcelona. I'm still scared every time I ascend, but I've experienced some breathtaking views around the world and made photographs I am proud of, simply because of rising to the challenge.

This pretty little nautilus is inside one of my favourite eateries, in the City of Wells.

Hurricane lantern

The historical roots of St Mary’s Church at Hill Croome certainly penetrate the recorded depths of time as far down as 1280, but there are even deeper references. One Bishop Lyfing of Worcester received the manor house as a gift from the wife of the King of Mercia in 1038.

I doubt if this oil lamp has had as long a history, but it is still quite an unusual kind of wall light to find in a rural church. The “Improved Hurricane Lantern” pictured here was made in Birmingham by Messengers and Sons. It is one of a pair mounted inside this tiny church on a hill. Judging from the fuel stains in the masonry, it looked to me as if it had had a long and useful life, and seemed it could easily be pressed into service at a moment's notice if need be.

References taken from the notes made and published by the late Col. Tom Hingston M.B.E, M.A.

Marilyn

My sense of direction, some would argue, is poorly developed. Today, after successfully locating a place I needed to find, I applied one of my making-life-more-adventurous rules to the return journey. I chose a different route home from the one I normally take.
I was getting hungry towards lunch time. Thoughts of soup and pub lunches mixed in the blender of my mind. I drove past an old bus, parked in a lay-by. “Food” said a sign. “All Day Breakfast” proclaimed another. In a Bart Simpson reflex movement, I swung my car round and headed back, on autopilot, in search of sustenance.
There was a warm welcome from the owners, namely Percy (at the stove) and Marilyn (at the counter). Minutes later I was tucking into a piping hot plate of fried eggs, bacon and beans. The converted seating and tables had plenty of room in which to to relax and read. I sipped from a steaming mug of freshly brewed tea. There was plenty of what the Irish call “crack” coming from two of  the regulars, which concerned tales of restoring classic French cars and also how to learn to drive buses.
The Bus Stop Café has been in regular service on the A38, just outside of Worcester, for fourteen years. It’s actually a stop on the postman’s round; I’ve seen the mail. I rather think Dave and I will be paying it a visit quite soon, if only to wash a wedge of Marilyn’s tempting Lemon Drizzle cake down with some hot char.

Bedknob and lampshade

It's a fact of life at my age that I find myself standing in a room wondering what it was that took me there in the first place.
One redeeming feature of having a small camera permananently attached to my belt is that I can at least make a picture while I wait  for the effects of my daily Omega 3 oil capsules to speed up the sluggish synapses in my brain. But only when I remember to wear my belt, of course.

Porch light

I find there's something uplifting about the quality of light at this time of year. The angles of the shadows are similar to those in autumn, but I suppose it's the psychological effect of having left the gloom of winter behind that contributes to my love of spring sunshine.