Third in the incredibly unpopular series of meandering around York – not just through the streets but within the realm of my own mind. This is the web location of the map I printed off and here is a photo of the area I explored:
As you can see, there’s a fair old bit of territory there and so here is a confession: I cheated! Yes, I know, I know – it’s shocking. Instead of walking down every single street, I contented myself with eyeballing them all instead. My excuse? It’s minus out there and it’s snowing!
I started by the famous York Minster, but instead of taking the usual tourist shot, I snapped a reflection of the building in one of the decorative … things on the steps:
But if you don’t like that, search for York Minster on the internet and you will find gazillions of images!
As I was walking past the back edge of the Minster I noticed this fella in a tree. He (no, I didn’t check the gender – I’m just supposing) obliged me by staying still long enough for me to snap him:
I like seeing birds in trees – there’s something about it that makes me feel, I don’t know – comforted somehow. Any shrinks out there want to hazard a guess as to why?
What’s next, what’s next? Erm – can’t remember so I’ll just go ahead and insert it:
Oh yeah, this one. After walking around for a while watching the people passing by and musing on the vanity of flesh (there was this one lady who’d dyed her white and thinning hair purple, and another who was stuffing a pastie into her mouth as if her life depended on it (and it clearly didn’t when you looked at her girth), and another guy with wild eyes and a homeless expression on his face who was showing the police constable I-know-not-what down a dark alley that led to the river, and further on the police were trying to talk to another homeless guy in a shop doorway but his only reply was to take off his beanie-hat, rip out the label with his teeth and put it back on again, and there were all sorts of people walking with me through the snow) I was struck by how there’s the world people see and then the one that they don’t. To illustrate this I took a picture down a grate in the middle of the most affluent and grand(ish) part of town (Coney Street). Make of it what you will.
Then there was a tree silhouetted against a perfectly white sky and a church (All Saints, Pavement):
And some snow on the wall next to the church:
And then some more snow falling past this building on the corner of Stonebow and Garden Place:
And yes – that really is a building. Each of the rectangular shapes is a brick and each of the diamonds is many feet tall and I’m surprised I didn’t get arrested for taking a picture of this place because it’s the main telephone exchange in York. It would be a prime target for … all sorts of nefarious stuff. I’ll say no more.
Here’s view of the York Mister from St. Saviours Place:
What do you mean ‘which part of it is the Minster?’ It’s the two greyish looking crowns and the squarish lump in the middle of the bottom of the frame. When I took the snap looked very picturesque – what with the snow falling and all of that. You can see the snow in the photo, but it mainly looks like ash from a … I was going to say a nuclear explosion, but actually, I’ve never seen one of those. It looks like soot. Okay?
On the north-facing wall of Saint Andrew’s Evangelical Church (on St Andrewgate) is this walled up place:
Walled up places always make me wonder who is walled up behind them. Yep, you’re right – I read too many Edgar Allan Poe books as a teenager.
These trees are right in the middle of town – on Parliment Street. I snapped them because (as you probably can’t see unless you look very closely) the Christmas decorations are still up (in February!), and they are still lit up (in the middle of the day!!) Out-blooming-rageous. Someone should write to their MP.
Oh, actually – you can see the lights. Aren’t they pretty!
To finish off, I took a picture of a goose:
It was patently ignoring me as I squatted behind it on the banks of the river Ouse so I started making noises to try to attract its attention. Here are some sounds that do not cause a goose to turn its head:
Here’s what did cause it to turn one beady eye towards me:
Thus proving that geese are …
I’ve been staring out of the window for a good few seconds trying to think what this proves and the only thing I can think of is that it demonstrates that my brain does not work optimally when I need food. That said, it doesn’t work that well after I’ve just eaten either. Maybe I should just leave it at that.
Half past two in the afternoon – I’m going to get some food now. Have a nice day, y’all.