sky watching, fire and ice – first published 15 and 16 January 2015

image

The cold was beginning to bite back in January 2013 and there was snow forecast. Not that we get much snow around these parts. Actually I was hoping it would snow because I had some band new Yak Trax to try out. Snow or no snow I was enjoying the beautiful, even unusual, skies. At times they seemed to be filled with fire and ice.

16 January 2013

Brrrr, it was freezing cold yesterday morning with a real icy North wind blowing. According to the breakfast news the whole country was covered with snow, except this little corner. That’ll be the Yak Trax then. For breakfast I tried the fruity granola, I know you’re not going to believe this, I hardly believe I’m saying it myself, but it was even better than the cocoa nib one. I was sorely tempted to take some to work for one of my snacks but I resisted in the end. Variety is the spice of life after all, even if I could happily have granola for breakfast, lunch and dinner with a few granola snacks thrown in for good measure.

Wrapped in my thick wool coat, a scarf, gloves and flappy eared hat, not to mention thick socks, Skechers boots and many layers of clothing I set off for a bone chilling walk made more bearable by the most beautiful pink, grey and blue sky. I know I’m obsessed with the sky but sometimes it takes my breath away with its ever changing multi hued majesty. Speed took second place to the many stops to snap photos. The brisk wind sent the clouds scudding across the sky giving me a different view every few seconds. When I saw the rowing club out on the water as I crossed the bridge, I couldn’t believe it, they must have been freezing. What a dedicated bunch they are. By the time I got to work all the blue and pink had disappeared and the gathering clouds had turned the whole sky grey.

image

image

Arabella got called to Genoa over the weekend so I have a week to get everything sorted before she comes back. Sometimes I wonder if her husband recognises her when she does eventually go home. I’m sure Commando wouldn’t be too happy if I was away as much as she is. At lunch time I did pop out for a few minutes but it was too cold to walk very far. At some point during the day the grey clouds cleared and the sun came out but I only noticed it when I went to make a coffee in the afternoon.

Just before five thirty I returned to the kitchen to wash my coffee cup and the sky had changed again. The horizon looked almost green fading to a brilliant turquoise then electric blue. It was so unusual I grabbed my phone and snapped some photos through the window, sadly they don’t do it justice which is a shame because I’ve never seen the sky like it before. I did Google it to try to find out if it meant anything, weather wise, but, although it’s a well documented phenomena, it simply means the sky is clear, nothing else.

image

image

Partly because of the unusual sky, I decided to walk home over the New Bridge, in the hope of getting some better photos. Sadly, by the time I got outside the colours were fading, although I did get a picture between the buildings as I climbed to the top of the steps up to the road. There was a crescent moon too. At times like this I wish I had a better camera, one that could take good night time photos. If I did I’d probably never see anything worth snapping.

image

The big freeze was going on outside when I dragged myself reluctantly out of bed this morning. At first I thought it had actually snowed, the frost was so thick on the roofs of the houses across the road and the cars on the street. I got slightly excited at the thought of using my Yak Trax until I realised it was just frost. As the sun began to come up, the sky outside the French windows was a surreal shade of pink and, when I peeked outside, the decking and garden were white with frost. I should think anything in the veg plot the slugs haven’t eaten will be well and truly dead by now. Oh well. You win some you lose some, it would be nice if I won a few more though.

image

The front gate was actually frozen shut and it took me a while to get out. My poor hands were stinging  by the time I did and I told myself I really should get one of those arctic jackets because I’m sure the weather would be balmy if I did. Luckily, the pavements, except the places where kind people had poured water to de-ice their cars, wasn’t slippery. That was a good thing because, today I had a plan of action to stop being so cold on the walk to work.

It was a cunning plan, to walk over the New Bridge rather than the Big Bridge. Why would that keep me warmer you may be wondering? Simple, the walk over the New Bridge starts with me walking up the Little Hill and I figured, as I always feel cold on the first part of my walk but warm up after a while because of the walking, if I started off with the Little Hill, I’d be warm by the time I reached the top because of all the extra effort. It worked too, I was actually sweating my the time I got to the top of that killer hill, apart from my hands and bits of my face, I didn’t feel cold at all after the first minute. I probably burned a few more calories too which can only be a bonus.

image

When I finally staggered to the top of the hill the grass on the park looked like it was dusted with icing sugar. I felt a bit sorry for the poor dog walking across it with his master. His little paws must have been frozen. Do they make boots for dogs I wonder? If not they should. The sunrise was hidden by the trees again, just a hint of an orange glow between the branches. The view across the river on the Big Bridge was probably spectacular, pity I can’t be in two places at once really. I took the road that runs behind the green again, I think it probably cuts a little bit off the journey and it’s nice to get right away from the traffic, even though there’s a lot less of it this way. Looking across to the church the silouettes of the bare trees were framed against a sky that looked as if it had been painted, so many shades of blues, greys and pinks they looked like mad Van Gough palette knife strokes.

image

image

The bottom end of the lonely path was filled with pockets of ice where the rain water has trickled down the hill and frozen. I had to watch my footing to avoid ending up on my bum. From there it’s not far to the bridge, just over the railway bridge and then up the steps. A bit more climbing to get the blood moving before the long, exposed span of bridge. The sun was more or less fully up by this time but, thanks to a layer of low cloud, I still got to see a sunrise of kinds, complete with screeching seagulls, as I walked across.

image

By the time I got to the office I was boiling. Maybe I don’t need an arctic jacket after all.

Ice, music, lifeboats and memorials

Holyrood church
Holyrood church

31 March 2015

Making my my way up towards Holyrood Church and the next stage of the Titanic trail, I couldn’t help thinking about all those passengers. How lucky they must have felt to secure tickets for the maiden voyage of this wonderful ship and how unlucky most turned out to be. For two days Titanic sailed through calm waters and good weather while passengers enjoyed the luxurious facilities, fine dining and entertainment. Continue reading Ice, music, lifeboats and memorials

ice fog and a double dose of good news – first published 12 December 2012

image

The twelfth of December 2012 was supposed to be the day the world ended. Obviously it didn’t. After a terrible start with freezing fog for the walk to work things actually took a decided turn for the better. There were a few heart stopping moments along the way though and a Christmas tree mystery. Continue reading ice fog and a double dose of good news – first published 12 December 2012

Ice and the price of progress – first published 2 December 2012

image

My first Moonwalk training walk of December 2012 took me on what was to become, more or less, one of my current walks to work. At the time, it was a walk I hadn’t done in years and some things weren’t how I remembered them at all. Sometimes it seems progress isn’t always for the better… Continue reading Ice and the price of progress – first published 2 December 2012

Rock gardens, piers and the muddy beach run 2015

image

22 February 2015

As I was leaving work on Saturday afternoon the sky darkened. Something very strange began falling from the brooding clouds, a cross between snow and hail, fat fluffy balls that went splat as they hit the ground or me. Thankfully Commando was waiting for me in the car because pretty soon the roads were white with these odd balls of snow and ice and they were gathering under the windscreen wipers. Apparently this was graupel, snowflakes that become rounded pellets when they mix with supercooled water droplets which freeze to them in a process called accretion. When I looked out of the window on Sunday morning they were still there, frozen to the decking and the deck rails under an arc of icy pink clouds. Continue reading Rock gardens, piers and the muddy beach run 2015

Mini Moonwalk training to Millers Pond – first published 30 November 2012

An icy start
An icy start

For my last Moonwalk training walk of November 2012 the training plan threw in a nice short walk to give me a break from the long walks. Either that or it was lulling me into a false sense of security. As the weather was decidedly cold and icy I can’t say I was disappointed. After a bit of map looking I decided to revist an old haunt from my childhood. In the thirty years or so since I’d last been to Millers Pond things had changed a little.

Continue reading Mini Moonwalk training to Millers Pond – first published 30 November 2012

sea, ruins and melting snow

Weston Shore
Weston Shore

3 Fenruary 2015

Pretty soon I was crunching through the snow around the corner, where the Seaweed pub used to stand, to the shore. Beside me snow was caught in the seed heads of the swaying grasses and I could see a ragged line of white where the shingle beach should be. Despite the dark clouds everything looked sparkling and bright. The brooding snow cloud on the horizon almost hid the towers and spires of Fawley on the other side of the water but the sun was doing battle with them, trying hard to burn through.  Across the road the little beach shelters looked lonely on the empty foreshore, it seemed as if I was the only person in the world, with the whole beach to myself. Continue reading sea, ruins and melting snow

A thin, ephemeral blanket of white

image

3 February 2015

On Monday night I made a careful plan for a long walk. Maybe it’s time I learned my lesson and stopped making plans because it seems something always happens to scupper them. When I got up in the night I did a double take as I passed the hall window from bedroom to bathroom, either there was a really heavy frost or it had been snowing. It was too dark to see for sure so, sleepily, I trotted back to bed. The answer, when Tuesday morning came, was snow! Finally the Yak Trax would come out of hibernation. At least they would if I got a move on and got outside before it melted or rained. Continue reading A thin, ephemeral blanket of white

Rain, ice, stress and a road works poem

image

28 – 31 January 2015

It was a typical wet, windy Wednesday so I left extra early to catch the bus across the Big Bridge.  Normally catching the bus would give me more time, not less, but the road works on the bridge and consequent traffic jams mean going anywhere on the road at the moment is a long winded, frustrating business. Still, I have a free bus ticket and I did get to say hello to the swans on the bend by the boardwalk as I marched past. Despite the leaving early I barely made it to the office on time. A journey that takes me thirty minutes or so on foot took nearly an hour on the bus. Continue reading Rain, ice, stress and a road works poem

Frost, ice crystals, sun and ships

What a difference a day makes
What a difference a day makes

21 – 23 January 2015

Wednesday morning couldn’t have been more different to the day before if it tried. The cold was still there but the beautiful skies I’d seen on my early morning walk were now grey and brooding and the sparkling frost was nowhere to be seen. Seven cygnets were foraging around in the mud by the slipway and, as I passed by, their parents came rushing over to see if there was bread to be had. There wasn’t.

Continue reading Frost, ice crystals, sun and ships