December 21st – It’s not hard to notice if you’re a regular reader that I hate the darkness of winter and the closing in of the days. Well, this is the weekend where the process reverses for another season, and from tomorrow, the light will slowly but surely trickle back into my life.
Winter always feels on the run from hereon in.
Bring it on.
This journal is moving home. Find out more by clicking here
from Tumblr https://ift.tt/2QrJOrC
via IFTTT
January 2nd – Back on the 21st December my heart was lifted, as it always its, by the thought that we’d had the shortest day of the year, and that now the sunset would get later and later and the night and darkness would retreat for another year.
Well, not two weeks later, and the sunset is already 10 minutes later than it was on that day.
Ten minutes may not seem much, but it’s significant. Although the timetable to which the day lengthens is fixed, the rapidity of the change is always impressive to me and the retreat of night, being loosely sinusoidal, accelerates as we escape winter.
That six hundred seconds of gleaned light mean that on a clear day, it’s not really dark until well after 4:30pm. Soon light will leak into my evening commutes, and all will be well again.
I so hate the darkness.
This journal is moving home. Please find out more by clicking here.
from Tumblr http://bit.ly/2sa3Qeo
via IFTTT
December 21st – At last, work is over for the year, coinciding happily with the shortest day. The winter solstice is important to me, as once it’s passed, the days begin their sinusoidal rollercoaster of opening out once more – slowly at first, then careering to daylight as the spring comes.
When I reach this point, I always feel I’ve survived. From here on in, things can only improve. And Christmas is here!
I passed the Black Cock in Walsall Wood on my way home; a pub that’s clinging on despite several changes of landlord in a short time, it remains popular and the welcoming, warm lights in the darkness made it feel festive and welcoming.
I’m ready for Christmas now, and a rest.
December 13th – On the canal near Bentley bridge, the gorse (or is it broom? I’m never sure) is coming into flower and bringing a splash of welcome colour ro a drab, damp landscape.
I love to see this flower – it carries me through winter and reminds me it won’t be long until spring flowers return. It also won’t be long now until the shortest day and once more, the opening out will commence again.
I can’t wait.
December 22nd – At least now, we’ve had the Solstice and the shortest day – it’s all coasting to spring now, whatever the weather, we still wander gently but surely into the light. My darkness is retreating.
Holding back the darkness in its own way is this Christmassy cottage near Springhill, between Lynn and Sandhills. I had to nip to Stonnall on my way home again, and the rain had made for yet another commuting battle. But seeing the white lights twinkling, and the thoughtful execution made me smile.
A light in the darkness. Merry Christmas!
December 22nd – The rain was evil on my return through Lower Stonnall, aided and abetted by a low but sharp wind. As I came back down Gravelly Lane, I stopped to look at Ivy Cottage in the dusk. Ivy Cottage is a landmark for me: it stands at an oblique, curious angle to junction, and it’s lights indicate that I’m nearly home, and have to turn right. It’s a lovely cottage, and looks best in spring. I know the seasons are advancing by this cottage, and the degree of night-time when I pass it on my return from work. Yesterday was the shortest day and winter solstice, from now, for me, spring starts. This is not trivial. From here, everything opens out.
A reader of this journal remarked to me a few weeks ago that I sounded tired in my posts. It’s not tiredness as such, it’s fatigue; the attrition of the dark and bad weather, and the knowledge that worse was to come. For an outdoors person, the nights closing in seems calamitous, inevitable, and depressing. I feel it acutely. From now, slowly, almost imperceptibly, daylight extends. It will creep gradually into my journeys, and in a few weeks, rather than the death and retreat I’ve seen since summer passed, life will return and nature will awaken. I know there’s bad weather to come, but having seen the shortest day, I can now face anything.
I can understand why everyone from the Celts to the Romans and Christians had a midwinter celebration. They felt this point was a symbol of time’s passage. I concur. From here, the riding gets better and better.
December 22nd – That dreaded time when you have to do Christmas shopping. Taking a run up to Lichfield through the quiet lanes of Stonnall and Wall, I stopped at the hilltop overlooking Lichfield to catch my breath before entering the madness that is Lichfield at Christmas. I noticed Wall village cricket ground looking sad, forlorn and idle; hopefully, now the shortest day has passed it won’t be long until this field sees the white-clad lads out to defend their honour…
BrownhillsBob's #365daysofbiking 