Now that’s more like it.

Wrap up warm, soak up the S Ldn rays and it could be mid-June.

Sorta.

I’ll miss the Veteran Car Run chugging along South Lambeth Road, if future personal plans ever come to something. Every November, for a quarter of a Century (!) I’ve been woken by the sound of the classic cars slowly making their way towards Brixton.

It’s Destination Brighton for the relics as part of the annual coastal run. It must be a challenge for some of them to make it even as far as St Reatham up the road.

You can hear them coming at the Stockwell end of South Lambeth Road all the way from the Little Porto end. Those old engines aren’t exactly cutting edge EV technology. It’s the one exception I can make without going ape shit over petrol polluters.

Sunday morning was very similar to the previous twenty four years of observing the grand old spectacle. It always seems to rain on this one weekend of the year. The dampness combined with the petrol led to a very intoxicating smell.

The drivers and passengers looked dapper. I was more in awe with some of the wardrobe decisions than the old bangers themselves.

This may - or may not - be my final year of observing this tradition. I like to think that the Veteran Car Run will still be taking place in twenty five years time.

And I didn’t even add the clickbait Wankerville to the title.

An hour or so later after this snap was taken, the S Ldn skies were illuminated with an incredible fireworks display. I think it was from Battersea Park.

Fireworks make for crap photos on an iPhone. I’ll stick with the Same as it Ever Was Sunny Stockwell Skies.

I was a little late in the day coming to this one once again. Technically it wasn’t a Sunny Stockwell sunset.

Don’t be fooled by the nice little fluffy cloud that is illuminated. About ten minutes later, this turned into a right old BEASTY and dumped the MUTHA of rainfall down on a not so Sunny Stockwell.

I paced around the flat, checking the ceiling for leaks, and looking at the guttering to make sure it was holding firm.

Sometimes it’s best just to say FUCK IT, and get on with your life.

Another day, another random walk around these Transpontine streets.

The route was roughly from Sunny Stockwell and over to the Oval Art Trail: Gasworks, Beaconsfield (closed) and then the Grand Daddy, the mighty Newport Street.

Never one to let an opportunity to snap away, have camera, will snap, etc.

The South London light was fading. My camera struggled to pick out some of the autumnal colours amongst the concrete.

With major regeneration taking place around The Oval with the old gasometer, now is a useful time to capture the changes.

I’m pleased that I managed to capture the old Cricketer’s boozer before it was bulldozed this time last year.

Snappety snap.

Not all Sunny Stockwell Skies snaps capture the sunset - especially so when the silly sun decides to set ridiculously early and you are out being a Boy About Town.

I caught this one early evening, I published it the following morning.

I’ve always had an issue with timekeeping, Comrades.

I love turning a corner around my S Ldn patch, and then OH MY DAYS, another new mural has appeared.

Create without permission, as we use to say back in the day.

But I suspect that Spanish artist Sebas Velasco did seek permission before he painted his beautiful new piece of work on the side of Broadstone House along Cobbett Street, SW8.

It’s titled ‘Yves’ - a local young fella from Brixton, standing on the Brixton mainline platform.

The art may - or may not - be long for this world. It’s right at the heart of the failed South Lambeth Estate ‘regeneration.’

If Lambeth can be arsed to get its act together after more than a decade of stalling, then we may soon have another soulless, uniform development springing up soon.

Then again.

When regeneration stalls, the streets speak.

Or something.

I got lucky with the Sunny Stockwell Skies hit and miss iPhone snap this afternoon. It was dull all afternoon around SW8. These photos only really work when there is, erm, a sunset, natch.

Some errands needed to be carried out around the Stockwell Triangle. I had to head out.

A momentary glance outside the front window of the flat, and woh! We almost have a sunset. Blink and you might miss it, etc.

The timing for these saps is getting tricky. I even asked Alexa earlier what time sunset is for the Winter Solstice.

3:40pm.

SHIT THE BED.

That’s no time to end the day.

I’ll miss it when it’s gone - the daylight, and the opportunity to capture these shots outside the window.

Here we are again.

The Boy from the Country, the Boy from the City lifestyle continues to ride - for now, at least.

It wasn’t the most Sunny of Stockwell landscapes that greeted me when I touched down in SW8 this afternoon.But I’m a Transpontine optimist. I see beauty even in the SW8 drizzle.

I did the usual thing of stopping by the War Memorial Gardens for the obligatory snaps. Brian Barnes' Stockwell masterpiece is looking increasingly jaded and in need of some TLC.

The local Labour Councillors did organise a touch up and repaint around a decade ago. But the proud pictures from Stockwell’s past - historic, not Labour Councillors - are once again calling out to be tarted up.

Local government budgets means that this is highly unlikely. Sadly Brian is no longer with us to help with the effort.

You can take the boy out of Sunny Stockwell…