Run away

Today’s picture shows the nice shiny bike my daughter has just purchased for braving the streets of London.

annies bike

It has been well reviewed and she tells me that it is much lighter than her previous bike which can only be good.  She is of course putting mudguards on it.

The reason that I took so many pictures yesterday was because of the belief that it would only be a fleeting opportunity and this proved to be the case  as the thick snow from yesterday had almost disappeared after a night of heavy rain.  I rose late and went to review the situation.   The hills were more or less bare…


…and the snow was disappearing towards the sea at a great rate.


I wish that I had got up earlier because judging from the neat tide mark along its bank, the river must have been quite a sight then.


It was warm enough and the main roads were clear enough for a pedal but for one reason or another (a late night, yesterday’s walk in the snow, a touch of asthma were all candidates) I didn’t feel very perky and there was a brisk enough wind blowing to both to discourage me and ruffle the feathers of this chaffinch on the feeder.


Instead, I hung around the house intermittently checking on Andy Murray’s efforts to win a second major in a row and intermittently staring out of the window.

An unruffled brambling
ringed chaffinch
A ringed chaffinch just hangs on
An elegant siskin

I don’t have the patience to watch a whole men’s tennis match and I find the swings of fortune hard to take but the little bits that I watched were very exciting and I was sad that the hopes of a nation vanished like the snow off a dyke as the morning progressed.

After lunch, I was so bored that in spite of the threat of more rain, I went out for a little walk.  I took the riverside walk and was not surprised to see a few tree disasters after the heavy snow and rain and the strong winds that have hit us on successive days.  This one was at the bottom of the bank…

Tree on Eastons walk

…and these two broken branches were along the top.

broken branches

As I walked along the path at the bottom of the bank I heard a clatter of stones as a small landslip slid down behind me.  Contemplating that and the amount of soil washed away from under this large tree…

tree root

…I couldn’t help but wonder how long the path will remain open.

It was only a short walk but there was plenty of moss to admire as I went round….


…and the contrast with yesterday could not have been more complete.


There was enough light to take a couple more pictures when I got home…

The robin lurks on the branch before making quick dashes to take a single seed from the feeder.
The robin lurks on this branch before making quick dashes to take a single seed from the feeder.
A female chaffinch blends into the grey day

…and then I settled down to some serious idling for the rest of the day.  I was going to do a little work on some rehearsal disks for the choir but I tipped a cup of tea over my desktop computer mouse and it took to it badly and only came out of its sulk after a long drying out on a radiator.  I don’t blame it because I would sulk if someone poured a cup of tea over me but it put paid to any constructive work.

Darkness came early and those winter blues returned.  I had met a man in the park who had driven home from York today and was was bubbling with a simmering rage because the sun had been out for his whole journey until the last six miles into Langholm.  “I’m going to live in York, I really am,” he kept on repeating.  There are days when we we can all sympathise with that.

Dropscone rang me up to tell me that he had been for a twenty miles pedal in the morning but it must have been hard work because he swore that the wind had been against him both ways.  I am going to try to find a gap in the weather tomorrow to do a few gentle miles just for the good of my soul.

Another chaffinch turned up to model for flying bird of the day.  (You can see that there is still quite a bit of snow on our lawn even if it has left the hills.)




Published by tootlepedal

Cyclist, retired teacher, curmudgeon, keen amateur photographer.

13 thoughts on “Run away

  1. its amazing how fast that snow disappeared, that must have been some wind storm! isn’t it amazing how the birds go on about their business no matter what happens? I really like the flying bird shot you have today..

      1. We had terrific thunder and lightning to boot!
        First born’s new mountain bike if being built on the kitchen floor! So many bits from so many places, it is bespoke…

      2. I would like to be the sort of chap who could build a wheel and put together a mountain bike but alas these are not my skills. I hope you got some fine lightning photos.

  2. The Pinnacle looks good for urban navigation.

    I’m not sure if I should congratulate you or commiserate with you on the rapid disappearance of the snow. Congratulate, I think.

    1. On the whole I think congratulations is in order. It is a definite sign of old age when you just see our occasional snow as an inconvenience rather than a delight but I am getting on a bit.

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