Off the hook

It's the little things in life that give pleasure.. like the mechanic at Bilprovning not noticing that my wipers aren't quite doing all they should. I'm happy, he's happy and alls well in the world. (almost). But I really must get it fixed!

Deep & Crisp & Even...

Midnight, or a little after, commuting home on the penultimate train. Step off the train into soft gentle snow.

Four inches of fresh snow - where did it all come from? Now there's a philosophical question! Up on the gantry bridge we are a humble few that turn left and head down to the woods, instead of towards the lights of the town. And the farther the trail goes the few tracks are left to follow.

Now just two. Each footprint , hard pressed and icy, ringed around with white, preserves their passing. How beautiful the trees.. every bough anointed white. The woods edge is silent and mysterious - the darkness among the trees a contrast to the sodium brightness reflecting from the snow clad road below.

White snow, a blank canvas... a finger the artists only tool. An ephemeral creation - a thought, frozen in time.

Discharged

The snow keeps on coming. Fine flakes driving in the wind, white droplets flashing under the streetlights. It said in the papers that the snow could stay for weeks...

The car sits cold and forlorn half sheltered under the carport. Only half sheltered as the snow blows in anyway. The battery is flat. It won't start. The battery charger burst the seals on the battery, leaking acid in my storeroom... It definitely isn't going to start. Do you have those days?

The battery from the boat is charging. Plan B is in progress.. hopefully it's good enough to get me started. Then I can buy a new battery; get me to my car inspection next week. But in the meantime, I'm 'pendelling' - on public transport. Which isn't so bad - all part of my eco-conscious better lifestyle model... leave the car at home! .. though it is nice if it starts when you want it to.

It's a funny thing but I always seem to use the bus more in the Winter.. just when standing around waiting is at it's least inviting - there I am stood on the kerb, shuffling my feet, back to the wind. Hands in pockets...

I lost a glove on the bus today. Do you ever have one of those days?

Winter has arrived.

One day the last few gilded leaves are hanging in the birch trees, and then the snow comes. Overnight the world changes. A carpet of silent white envelops the woods and reshapes the buildings in its anonymous folds. Sparkling crystals fan out across the windows, tiny fragments of infinity.

Winter, and with it a healthy chill and a hint of Christmas on the way. It's so nice, but at the same time I know it's here until March - and by then I'll be gasping for Spring. By all accounts it will be gone after the weekend - but the thought is there.

In the Beginning

In the velvet darkness of the blackest night
Burning bright,
There's a guiding star
No matter what or who you are.

- Richard O'Brian "Over at the Frankenstein Place"