A run of days of clear blue, cold skies. Time to record the passing season and note the changes taking place between 'Battlefield' open space and the Lower Ouseburn Valley as the days grow longer.
Increasingly, I am attracted to chaos. Interposed against the creep of planning, its order and mediocrity, are the stubborn, the ugly beauty of chance and accident. Despite the earth movers and cranes, tarmac and 'directions', Ouseburn retains its scraps and scars like a unloved fringe, waiting for recognition.
I hope you agree. Link to off site slideshow gallery here
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