Not long ago, I showed you a local barn I’m fond of. Now it’s time for another.
I often walk along the river bank towards the next village, and pass an attractive low-key campsite en route. And on this site is this elderly yet still serviceable barn…
Well, when I say ‘serviceable’, that’s unless you need to get through some of the doors. But the windows look fine, and windows are what Monday Window is all about. Every time I pass, I look at the layers of brick and ston , the iron retaining clasps that hold the whole thing together, and wonder what stories this venerable building, once part of a watermill, could tell…
Dancing in the street – music in the street – is part of our heritage. Part of the heritage of just about every nation on earth. Music helps us celebrate moments of spontaneous community togetherness. It provides rhythm and atmosphere for traditional dancers in town streets and squares who’ve come to entertain us, of course, but who would cheerfully make music and dance together even if we hadn’t turned up.
Here in the UK, brass bands appear when there’s a civic or community event to celebrate.
And individuals with guitars, saxophones, voices, even pianos scratch some kind of living by performing to any pedestrians prepared to listen.
My header image – the worst photo on earth – is one I love, for somehow conveying the joy in this community in Barcelona – Gràcia – brought together for one special day of events, singing and dancing to celebrate their love for their own special corner of the city.
So why not get out onto the streeets today and see what music you can find?
Ritva is our host for this week’s Lens-Artists Challenge: Music. Some of the photos I chose were monochrome, so for consistency I made this a post of black and white images. To the undoubted disgust of some of my readers – looking at you, Jo.
I have just found out that a less common collective noun for – er – colonies of gulls is ‘squabble’. That works very well, but not here. These herring gulls are, with one exception in the header photo, solitary singletons avoiding the seaside in favour of Urban Life.
We were having coffee with a friend the other day, and he told me I could set my phone to take photos in traditional postcard format – 16:9. I had to try it out immediately ….
Here we are in the hidden corners of Scarborough: where fishermen keep their kit and a hopeful seagull hopes a bit of fish has been left behind. Where flats in multi-occupation have young tenants with bikes rather than cars. And where a neglected chapel is too far gone to allow anyone to get past its gates.
Multi-Occupation Crescent.
A chapel with no congregation, no visitors, unloved and falling to pieces.
And that’s Scarborough for now. We enjoyed our time there. We’ll be back.
Masham Sheep Fair weekend. Big event in our social calendar. Here are some sheep curious to see what was going on. And another pair who wanted to get acquainted … but couldn’t … quite.
Gulls at the seaside famously stop at nothing to seize the fish and chips – or any other handy food – from innocent holiday-makers. This youngster’s still learning.
Scarborough is a town that is either on the way up, or on its way down, according to who you talk to. It has some glorious housing stock, built in the town’s heyday as a prosperous and must-visit resort in the 19th and early 20th centuries. Some of it is still glorious, and windows sparkle. Some is run down and in bad shape, and windows are grubby and laced with spiders’ webs – often on the same street.
All smart and tickety-boo at one end … less so further down the street.
Shopping streets can be quirkily full of independent traders (taxidermist, anyone?)…
A rather sad display spotted through the taxidermist’s window.
or be slightly down-at-heel examples of chain stores seen anywhere. Or even cheerful sea-front stores. And as one image below shows, quirkily independent doesn’t always make it.
It boasts the nationally renowned Stephen Joseph Theatre. It even has a university, even if that local seat of learning is actually an outpost of Coventry University, 260 km, or three and a quarter hours away. Transport links aren’t great, and all this is difficult for job seekers, who point out that the sea automatically limits the number of opportunities available. ‘Half our catchment area is fish.‘
Many of those fish end up in one of the many fish and chip restaurants in town. Here’s the view from Catch 55 (recommended). Though one customer didn’t seem to relish the scene as much we did…
Catch 55
I’ll close with a snapshot I rather like. It includes some of the more desirable housing, some of the more desirable parkland, an even, if you look hard enough, the sea. It absolutely qualifies for Monday Window, because these views were taken glancing through the window of a parked car.
Sad, maybe. But windows in as bad a state as these are always have me wondering about the tales they could tell and their history, whether humble or grand.
For these images I’ve been just down the road, as well as to farthest North Yorkshire; Leeds; London; Seville; Catalonia; Korçë in Albania. Which are which, you may wonder …?
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