Wednesday, 19 March 2014

Spring

Both the keen-eyed readers of these pages may have noticed that I haven't been blogging of late. There is a reason for this, and it's called Winter. This winter has been truly dismal - wet, grey, dark, the footpaths, even in sunny Essex, have turned to mud and the roads constantly wet and covered in potholes and debris. So, I haven't been blogging because I haven't really been doing much. Hardly any walking and no cycling to speak of.


It's not that I don't like Winter as such - in fact there are some aspects of Winter that I positively look forward to. The winter birdwatching round these parts is superb, and beautiful cold, crisp days are perfect for walking. The trouble is, there haven't actually been any cold, crisp days, just wet.



There are landmarks through winter that I subconsciously tick off, both good and bad



1. The last Sunday in October. Probably the most depressing day of the year, when the clocks go back and we inflict on ourselves the misery of late afternoon darkness. I know that, logically, Greenwich Mean Time makes sense, with midday falling more or less halfway between sunrise and sunset, but I just hate it.


2. Late November through to December. Just dark and wet. Christmas. Hideous. However, from now onwards....


3. December 22nd. The day after the shortest day of the year, a day to be savoured. From this day, imperceptibly, daylight hours are gradually lengthening, and hope is on the horizon.

4. Boxing Day. The day after Chriismas Day is a day for walking, and more importantly, it's not Christmas any more. Most importantly of all, I can now look forward to about ten months of turning on the radio or walking into a shop without hearing Shakin' f****** Stevens singing Merry F****** Chistmas Everyone. Christmas music is uniformly s***, and has no place in a civilised society.


5. New Years Day. It's not New Years Eve anymore, so I no longer have to pretend that I'm excited by the prospect of the clock reaching midnight, and it usually means a walk with the Stockwell Strollers.


6. Around January 6th. Its not my birthday anymore (each time I have a birthday, someone invariably mentions how old I must feel now that I'm a year older, and I invariably reply that I only feel a day older than I did yesterday. Annoyingly, the day after my birthday this year I came down with a severe dose of man-flu, and did indeed feel considerably older than I did the day before) and it's the end of the festive period school holidays - the state babysitting service has resumed and grumpy old men like myself can once again get out and about without tripping over families.
7. February 1st. I like February. It's a proper cold winter month, with the first signs of spring and just enough extra daylight to gladden the heart. As February becomes March nature does it's thing - Hawthorn bushes blossom by the roadsides, bulbs appear out of the ground, birds start singing and the distant sound of woodpeckers doing what woodpeckers do seems to be everywhere. The roads and paths start to dry out, walking boots are on, the bikes emerge from winter hibernation, and all is well with the world.
8. The last Sunday in March. Probably my favourite day of the year, the clocks go forward, it's not dark until about 8pm, spring is definitely here, and summer's just around the corner. Fantastic.
So, the last few weeks have seen a complete climatic transformation - dark wet days have been replaced by long periods of dry sunny weather, my cycling has resumed, and the dry roads mean the Bianchi has been put through it's paces. Some lovely rides on the superb Essex/Suffolk border roads, the Cycale season has resumed and I'm considerably fitter than I was a month ago. Happy days, and spring is here at last.











2 comments:

  1. Oh Eeyore!
    Five months of the year are purgatory!
    Yes - it's all better now, dear.
    :-)

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    Replies
    1. Indeed it is. I shudder to think how grumpy I'd become if I had to endure the winter in dark and grey Aberdeen. Mind you, the summer in Aberdeen probably wouldn't be much more cheery

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