Tag: cold

#365daysofbiking Wetter than an otter’s pocket

December 15th – The weather remained grim, and so did my mood. I had a lot to do still, with work end-of-year paperwork still bogging me down and medical tests scheduled for early in the coming week. My stomach was not good, and the rain relentless.

At Wharf Lane, pausing under the bridge for a rest and listening to the music of the rain on the water was almost therapeutic, and sustained me; at least until it started to get into my shoes.

The return home was unpleasant.

That Christmas spirit continues to be elusive.

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#365daysofbiking Cold enough to…

 

December 14th – Gosh, that was a shock.

I was heading for home early, but it was cold, so very cold and sharp. I looked at the GPS for the temperature – -2.7C at 6:45pm. It felt enough to freeze the bollocks from off a fox.

It looks like winter has arrived, my friends…

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#365daysofbiking Into the mystic:

December 12th – Out and about on errands during the (very bitter) day, although it was bitingly cold, there was occasional weak sun, and like yesterday, there was a part mist, part smog hanging over the Black Country making things magical again.

At Victoria Park in Darlaston, the mystic bridge was looking gorgeous and it felt good to be out.

Perhaps the cold means there might be snow before Christmas? I do hope so…

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#365daysofbiking Holding on:

November 23nd – It’s been a tough week, I don’t mind admitting. Work has been hard and everything else has been manic. The weather hasn’t been too wonderful either.

But, it’s Friday, and even though the day was grey and overcast, the daisies on the verge outside work were doing their best to be cheerful.

#365daysofbiking Kissed by the cold:

November 22nd – Pleased to note there’s still some fungi about at the moment.  The earthstars seem to have given up for this year, but these ice-coated glistening ink caps were glistening with frost when I found them in Victoria Park, Darlaston this morning.

Such delicate, beautiful things, I suppose the frost must harm them but it does look lovely.

I doubt there will be much more fungi this year now. it’s been a much better season than expected, to be fair.

#365daysofbiking Rime and season:

November 22nd – First really cold morning of the year I think, with lurking black ice and hedgerows and verges adorned with a hoar frost. It was the kind of penetrating cold that hurts your throat and forehead, and even though I was wrapped up, on the morning trail, towpaths and cycleways the -2.5 degree temperatures were still a little raw for me.

Every year it takes time to re-adjust.

I was certainly glad of the ice tyres this morning.

#365daysofbiking Death throes:

November 20th – In Redditch, just like everywhere else I guess, Autumn is in it’s death throes now. Winter is on my shoulder and it was cold, and on the way home, wet too. It’s not yet frosty, but there’s a characteristic bite in the air that finds every sensitive tooth when you first step out.

Rolling along the Arrow Valley through the park to visit a customer, the river and meadows were still gorgeous. But you can tell it’s ending now. Another week or so and winter will be here.

But also, it’s only a little over a month now until the shortest day. A month. Then darkness will be in retreat once more.

Onwards. I’m ready now.

#365daysofbiking Lifted:

November 8th – Heading to work on a damp, drizzly morning, autumn was still doing it’s best to lift me out of my doldrums. Still down, feeling the pressure at work and not over the end of summer, my commute was hard and tiring.

However, Green Lane looked gorgeous and improved my mood no end.

March 30th – A day of rest, with a journey up to Tesco in the late afternoon. The rain seems to be settled upon us for the weekend, which is a bit of a blow, but the forecast clearly isn’t as bad as many had predicted with a return to snow and ice.

I guess I should stop moaning, really; at this time in 2013 there was still lying snow around and it was very cold. And we are more prone to white eEasters than white Christmases in this country. But it feels like I’m missing out.

In Brownhills, the waterfowl didn’t seem to mind. One swan partner of the nesting pair just up around the bend was idling, and came over, hoping for food, and was grumpy when none was forthcoming. The Canada geese, however, were just loafing, and paid me little heed. We stood for a while together, just listening to the rain on the water.

There had better be a decent summer after this…