Out of focus...

Took my Nikon into Wilkinson’s photographic shop in Kendal, because the focusing mechanism isn’t working. It’s being sent off for, first, a diagnosis, then a quote, then, hopefully, a repair. Fingers crossed that it won’t cost too much. Trying to “take positives” from the experience (like the hapless England cricket team, thrashed by Australia in the Ashes... yet trying to convince themselves that the teams were "closely matched"), I'm planning to double down on my book writing. And if there’s one time of the year to be without my camera, maybe it’s the middle of January…

Brighouse...

Took a walk yesterday with Helen, following the towpath of the Calder & Hebble Navigation from Salterhebble to Elland and on to Brighouse. When I used to write walking books, every walk had to have a title: ‘In the footseps of the Brontës’, for example, or ‘Milltown memories’, etc. If the walk to Brighouse had a title, it would be ‘Urban decay’. But we saw a pair of gooseanders in brilliant winter plumage, a gang of long-tailed tits and a grey wagtail. We looked for kingfishers (an angler assured us he’d already seen them), but didn’t find any.

At Brighouse, in search of tea, cake and free wifi, we popped into the Villain Café, which opened recently to meet the town’s long-felt need for a goth-themed eatery. The decor was purple and black, and the walls were lined with pictures of Hannibal Lector, Freddy Krueger and various serial killers. The decor in the upstairs room included a full-sized coffin…

The lighthouse, Portpatrick...

Portpatrick...

The Portpatrick Hotel, on its rocky headland...

York...

Socialising in York for a couple of days, seeing old reprobates Gordon, Bryn and, tonight, John…

The Crown Hotel in Portpatrick, by lamplight...

Bute...

Heading for the Isle of Bute...

Tawny owl...

It was still dark when I drove from Penrith, across the Pennines and into Yorkshire. I was yanked out of my reverie by a loud bang. A tawny owl had flown into my windscreen, where it stayed. A buffeting wind kept the bird’s wings in motion, in a parody of flight, but the eyes that gazed at me, from a heart-shaped face, were sightless: a vision that will haunt my dreams. It was fully ten minutes before I was able to stop and remove the owl…

Moondancer, still at her mooring, on Lake Windermere...

Last sale of the year...

Licensed this pic today of The Bear in Crickhowell. I failed to match the sales in 2016 (5 pix short), but, looking on the bright side, sales have been good since the autumn...