Mid December sunshine, after what seems like a couple of weeks of extended grey. I needed a couple of hours to clear my head between tasks, and so headed off in a south-easterly direction…
1. The very gentle curve of those bricks, topped with an oncoming train. I looked, and there it was: a very ordinary situation on another ordinary day.
2. That little house is a leftover from another period. It does seem a bit lost, out there on its own and quite unused. On the other hand, it still has enough pulling power to make some of us stop and think.
3. Even though they aren’t, those two sections of the train appear to be getting rather cozy with one another.
4. Birth of a neighbourhood: beyond the pipes and rubble, the diggers, fences and all the other bits and pieces, transformation takes place. And a couple years from now no one will remember what a mess it was.
5. You know those buildings that have this thing about them that makes you wonder what’s going on inside? And yet they are not quite ‘special’ enough to make you actually find out.
6. Over there, right at the back, is where metro carriages come for their monthly medical check-up, and full body shampoo.
7. Aah, an abundance of triangles: that thought hopped into my head for a moment, and then it jumped right out again.
8. From this vantage point that building makes me think of a friendly fortress. Admittedly I’ve never actually seen a fortress that was friendly, but still…
9. Tidy spaces line the waterfront.
10. I’m still wondering what the ducks think about the weather. I’ve asked, but they claim not to know what weather is.
11. Rhythm in red brick and window pane.
12. With most of the leaves on holiday until next Spring, the ivy covered tree trunk finally found the confidence to clear its throat and say: “Hello, it’s me. I’m here.”
13. An alternative to house numbers could be concise descriptions of the front and rear façades.
14. The electro-mechanical guardians beep and let us into the station. They’ll beep out another “…goodbye…” when we leave.
15. A yellow and blue people-carrying-caterpillar: they’re everywhere.
16. Water goes this way. Metro goes that way. Stairs bring you down. Columns hold everything up. As you see, the system of getting you from here to there is really quite simple.
17. Eventually the cages and cranes will disappear—only the homes will remain.
18. There was rubble and dirt, and now there’s this. What next, flocks of happy families living on top of one another?
The man with the camera stood at the top a mound of sand, and tried to remember why he was there.
Once again the local government was forced to come out with a statement denying the existence of giant moles. And once again the citizens had difficulty believing the truth.
21. Silver Slab and its red-framed buddy should have left town ages ago—together with the other elderly buildings—but they didn’t. Now, all they could do was hope to blend in with the newcomers.
22. Scenes of all round busy-ness.
23. “Don’t call me boring!” Said the office block. “I’m warning you: call me boring one more time and things are going to get—!”
24. The green bits wrapped themselves around the piled up living containers and laughed. They refused to let us in on the joke, but we laughed with them all the same.
25. There’s a certain balance and neatness to Suburbia.