Even someone who cares as little about cars as I do couldn’t walk past the Rolls Royce parked in town the other day without stopping to look closer. It wasn’t the car that interested me, though: it was the emblem – or, as Wikipedia would have it, the bonnet ornament.
I don’t think I’d ever really thought about what the figure represented; I’d just assumed it was a winged victory. But now I come to do some research, I find it’s actually the Spirit of Ecstasy. Continue reading “ecstatic thoughts”
The EWS logo on the side of a train the other night caught my eye: it seemed so eminently traditional that I felt it must belong to the era of nationalised railways and navy blue quilted anoraks.
Having looked it up online, though, I find the company is only twenty years old. I also find that what I think of as an anorak probably bears little resemblance to the original Greenlandish garment. Continue reading “transports of delight”
When I was out walking the other day, I came across this lovely angle, where the Grand Union Canal crosses the railway track.
Initially, I thought of Frost’s “two roads diverged in a yellow wood”, but that wasn’t quite right, as there were no steps down to the train line so I had to keep following the towpath, whether I wanted to or not. Continue reading “let me count the ways”
The problem with taking photos at a classic car gathering is not just the hordes of people who jostle your elbow or wander absent-mindedly into the frame.
Even when you get there before anyone else, there are far too many polished surfaces: you end up as the main feature of at least half the pictures you take, which might not be quite so bad if the surfaces didn’t act as distorting mirrors.
When I don’t know what to write, I usually find a picture to post. So, not having got up early enough this morning to take any worthwhile pictures of the first snowfall of the season, I went browsing through recent photos and came across this image taken a few weeks ago at the re-vamped New Street Station, Birmingham. At the time I was struck by how inappropriately labelled the area was. The sign says “Yellow Lounge”, and yet there is very little yellow in view and it looks nothing like I would expect a lounge to look. Continue reading “passing time”