Tag: Winter

Icy water, woodland trails and a hidden pearl

21 December 2016

By the time Commando got back from his run I’d had my smelly shower and was feeling much warmer. My leggings, hung over the back of a chair by the radiator with my coat, had even dried out. There’d been another heavy snow fall when he was out running but, apart from the problem of breathing in his snow covered buff (a kind of runner’s neck scarf come face protector if you were wondering) and cold hands, he survived with few problems and his trail shoes coped admirably with the snow. Continue reading Icy water, woodland trails and a hidden pearl

a snowy walk in the dark

21 December 2016

Yesterday afternoon the snow got heavier and heavier and the wind stronger. Just as we were beginning to panic about the prospect of a two to three hour trip in a boat to see the aurora (or probably not given the snow clouds), Commando got a text to say the trip was cancelled. Winds of almost seventy miles an hour were the problem. To be honest it was a relief more than a disappointment. We’d already resigned ourselves to not seeing the aurora through the thick snow cloud. The trip was rebooked for tonight, with no guarantee the weather would be any better.  Continue reading a snowy walk in the dark

The colours of Reykjavik

20 December 2016

The Icelandic daybreak we’d been anticipating since midday when we’d stood by the Saga Museum and seen pink clouds in the sky seemed to be a bit of a mirage. There was certainly more light than there had been when we set out but, an hour after the sky first began to get lighter, the sun appeared to have stalled on the horizon and risen no further, leaving us in a kind of perpetual dawn. It was a strange state of affairs but at least we could now see the colours of Reykjavik. Continue reading The colours of Reykjavik

The land of the midday moon

20 December 2016

Iceland, the most sparsely populated country in Europe, is often dubbed the land of the midnight sun because, during the summer, the sun barely sets. In winter of course, it’s a different story. Sunlight is a rare and fleeting thing. Even after a slightly disconcerting shower in sulphurous water, a leisurely breakfast and a great deal of Google Map exploring, it was still as dark as midnight when we left the hotel just after eleven this morning and the moon was the brightest thing in the sky. Continue reading The land of the midday moon

The land of the ice and snow

19 December 2016

The day began with a foggy early morning journey to Heathrow and a late airside breakfast. For once we weren’t heading for the sun, but flying north into the unknown. Our cases were bulging with thick jumpers and thermals and, despite Commando’s insistence that I wouldn’t need them, I had my trusty Yaktrax in my hand luggage. It seemed to me the clue was in the name. Iceland was sure to be icy wasn’t it? Continue reading The land of the ice and snow

Bees, butterflies and regeneration – first published 8 March 2014

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The real sign that winter is over isn’t the flowers or the flush of green on the tips of the branches. No, those are just the window dressing. The real sign that winter is over are the insects, the bees and the butterflies. In early March 2014 the insect seemed to suddenly reappear after their winter absence and I knew Spring wasn’t far off at all. Continue reading Bees, butterflies and regeneration – first published 8 March 2014

Memories of the early 1960’s – landmark days and the passage of time

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January 1965

While some of my earliest memories are vivid and detailed, most are very vaguely fixed in time. Once I started school, dates began to mean something to me. My days were ordered into week days, weekends, months and years interspersed with long school holidays. There were also a few landmark events, dates that will never be forgotten.  Continue reading Memories of the early 1960’s – landmark days and the passage of time

The Power of the sea – first published 6 March 2014

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In early March 2014 the sea had called me and I’d answered with a walk down to the shore. There were signs of Spring everywhere, along with signs of the terrible winter storms. Parts of the path were crumbling and, as I passed West Lodge I wondered what the damage would be along there. What I found makes quite an interesting tale, mostly about the amazing power of the sea. Continue reading The Power of the sea – first published 6 March 2014

The call of the sea – first published 6 March 2014

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I’m always thankful that I live near the sea. There’s something about the sound of crashing waves and the taste of salt in the air that can’t be beaten. It may not be a beach of golden sands, with palm trees swaying and the sun beating down but, some days, the shore calls to me and, when it does, it have to listen. In early March 2014, I did just that. Continue reading The call of the sea – first published 6 March 2014

Wednesday walking first published 26 February 2014

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When I set out on the last Wednesday morning of February 2014 I had grand plans for an epic walk. Not too epic because I had even greater plans for Sunday and I didn’t want to wear myself out. What I was thinking was maybe nine to ten miles. Although the sky was blue and the sun was out it was cold so I wrapped up well. This ended up being my downfall. Continue reading Wednesday walking first published 26 February 2014