What happened to winter?

19 & 20 December 2014

By Friday morning the WordPress upgrade debacle of the night before felt like it had been a bad dream. When I checked the blog I was glad to see things looked relatively normal although some work was still needed to make things pretty. Sadly I didn’t have time for that because I had to go to work. At least it wasn’t raining but the wet pavements told me it had been. It was colder by a few degrees too but nothing that could really be termed wintry. It may be December but somehow winter doesn’t seem to be able to get a grip this year.

It was rather muddy on Monks Walk so I was too busy watching where I put my feet to look around much. On the quiet streets after that though I was startled to see a pink rose bud, still wet from the morning rain and quite perfect, hanging over a garden wall. What on earth has happened to winter this year? It’s almost as if we have moved straight from autumn to early spring with nothing in between.

In recent years there has been much talk of global warming, the scientists are full of apocalyptic predictions. Personally I’m always rather sceptical about scientist’s proclaimations. After all they once firmly believed the earth was flat, diseases were caused by ‘bad air,’ the sun revolved around the earth and much other nonsense. The amount of mind changing that goes on about what is good for us or bad for us and how things work is mind boggling, yet every new theory is published as if it’s the absolute truth until something better comes along.

To my mind the scientists are no better than the seers, like Nostradamus, who prophesied doom and gloom and the end of the world. There’s too much scare mongering and theories presented as fact for my liking. Besides, I’m pretty sure Mother Nature will prevail, she’s more than a match for us and our meddling. Even so, there does seem to be something very odd going on with the seasons of late. For what it’s worth I think it has more to do with natural cycles that predate our known history. There has been climate change since long before the first man discovered how to make fire and, no doubt there will be more of the same to come.

At least Saturday was the last working day of the week and the sky was blue when I set off for work. Unlike the fading cotinus leaves in my garden, those on the way to Monks Walk were still looking very autumnal. Even stranger, close by there was blossom on a tree. Autumn and spring standing cheek by jowl. The sun was rising behind the playing fields of St Mary’s College giving me a golden sky scape to smile at as I passed by.

The sky and the quality of the light continued to make me smile as I carried on towards the river. The tops of the wintery trees, filled with mistletoe, at the entrance to Riverside Park seemed to be aflame and the houses on the far bank glowed. Under the bridge the little boats were still in shadow as the sun climbed slowly above the tree line. The boatyard, on the other hand, seemed to have a golden spotlight on it. Whatever’s happened to winter, the sky cannot be beaten for beauty on a morning like this.

As usual, Saturday seemed to be lost property day. Right now bags filled with Christmas presents seem to be the favourite thing to leave on a bus. How someone can go out with a huge sack full of presents, get on a bus and then get off again without them beats me. We managed to find a couple of these bags but not all of them by any means. Of course there were the usual wallets and phones as well.

One man, who said he was registered blind, managed to leave his glasses behind when he got off the bus.
“I can’t go to the lost property office,” he said, “because I can’t see without them.”
This begs the question as to how he got off the bus and all the way home without realising he’d lost them. In fact I’m puzzled why he took them off in the first place. My glasses stay firmly on my face at all times unless I’m going to bed. This man though, became quite abusive when I said it wasn’t possible for me to go to the bus station and get them for him then deliver them to his house. Even when I explained I was in Southampton and his glasses were in Bristol it didn’t seem to him that he was being unreasonable in the slightest. Why can’t people take responsibility for their own mistakes?

Late in the afternoon I went outside for a breath of air and an escape from the unrelenting lost property calls. The sun was beginning to go down and I found myself staring skywards again. A perfect cross of con trails hung in the deepening blue above the railway line with pinky gold clouds below. The little garden and gazebo had a backdrop of blushing clouds and there was drama in the sky above the car park.

For the last two hours Elaine and I were on our own, working in perfect harmony to wrap up the business of the day. Between us we tracked buses, fielded social media enquiries and rants and dealt with yet more lost property. Elaine was going out on the town straight after work. She is a girl who doesn’t wear make up and had asked me if I’d help her. I’m not exactly a make up expert myself but, for the last quarter of an hour, between calls, I did my best. Truth to tell, this consisted of a smidge of eyeliner a little powder and some blusher. Thankfully she’s pretty enough not to need much anyway.

The last call of the day was a man who’d been working in a shop all day. His bus was late, caught up in the madness of Christmas shopping traffic. For once there was no shouting or calling us all liars.
“I thought as much,” he said, “it’s been madness all day and I knew the traffic would be terrible. Why do people leave it to the last minute to buy their presents? You’d think Christmas came as a surprise every year.”
Shamefacedly, I had to admit that I was one of those people and would be out there panic buying with the rest of them over the next few days.
“At least I won’t be taking a car,” I said, “and adding to the traffic congestion.”
“Good luck,” he chuckled, “you’re going to need it.”