The mystery of emerald green

When I travel, I do my best to describe what I see for those who are not there, my friends and family in France, or anyone interested in my subjects.

Leeds seems to be in perpetual reconstruction, and among the used machines, some vehicles or earthmoving equipment show an unusual color, emerald green. So it seems natural to be tented to take pictures of their mechanical ballets.

In a strange way, the emerald green color exists only for my eyes, but becomes blue for my camera —either in the EVF and in the picture— as well as my smartphone, despite its Leica rear lens. Most of the time …

At start, I only used my camera to take photos. But when I discovered the blue color in place of the expected green, I thought my camera —a recent but second-hand acquisition— had a mismatch with colors, and I started to prefer my smartphone to the camera.

Few days ago, I took a picture of works near the Leeds Art Gallery with my smartphone, and on the final picture, the emerald green had turned blue, once more. Only then I started to wonder how this ‘magic’ emerald green was doing to make it impossible to capture, even for the Leica lens of my camera.

And I gave my confidence back to my camera, unduly suspected of color incompetence.

• • •

Things might have ended there, and the mystery remained insoluble, but sometimes I am lucky, and once more yesterday … I was coming back from Merrion Center with a few purchases, and I saw a nice group of engines of the ‘magic’ color, and I took a picture, not for the color, but for the group itself, and …

Tadam ! Engines in the sunny place are the right color !

I don’t plan to explain the mystery of Leeds’ emerald green. But at least I’m able to show it to friends, family, and curious people worldwide.

It’s enough for me — for the moment !

PS: And yes, I confess that here, I have used a lot Google Translate. Because it was a very technical subject, far beyond my knowledge on public works, but I really wanted to show the ‘magic’ color to everyone. Ouf! It’s done!

Today, I wrote to my mom

And as I was in West Yorkshire, England, United Kingdom and so on, I started my letter with a (virtual) thunderous “Hi, mom!” in English.

Of course, on next paragraph, I explained it was a joke, because I was —I am— in England now, in a city named Leeds from which I have become in love at first glance, so I’m not sure I would agree to go back in France now.

I’m happy I was able to send her a (large) nice postcard, with four pictures of Leeds on front side — postcard found at the museum near the City Town Hall, if I remember well.

But as I haven’t thought to take a snapshot of the postcard, I give you a picture coming straight from my smartphone, without any change at all.

Straight coming from my smartphone …

A really nice picture, isn’t it? Hope I could make such beautiful ones with my (semi-pro) camera …

Yet, half an hour later …

… I was at Kings Cross Station, waiting for the next train to Leeds.

I’m not sure I can afford London, which is reputed expensive.

On the other hand, even whether my spoken English is slightly better than I thought, it’s not that good. I hear poorly, I pronounce poorly, and often I need people repeat several times what they say before I understand the meaning. When I understand — not always.

So, I have decided to go slightly away from London, to force me to face reality, and Leeds seems a nice idea for the challenge.

‘Why Leeds?’ could you ask. ‘Why not Leeds?’ might I reply. In fact, there is a reason for Leeds rather than any other place in the world: Leeds is the closest place with a railway station and hotels of the Accor group from another place where somebody I crave to meet lives. And that’s enough to say, if you agree.

• • •

Sadly, I might have to go back to Vierzon on next month — just a quick round trip, but it has to be made before May. My travel was poorly prepared (my fault), and I miss some papers I need to bring my bank agency closer to me, not to mention finding any accommodation here.

Welcome home, Traveler!

— Welcome back, England! — Welcome home, Traveler!

I can’t get tired of this vision, nor of the dialogue I imagine at arrival.

I have been away too much, it was enough for me to reach Saint Pancras to understand how much I have missed England since 2014.

My heart has remained enclosed in the memory of clothes the couple of Paul Day was covered in (January? February?) 2014, to celebrate I don’t remember which event.

Clothes were removed, but fragments of my heart remained there, forever glued to the statue, so my very first pictures of England were for them.