8°C, storms brewing, strong W. Heavy rain. This moth has chosen the window frame inside the shed to spend the winter in a very sluggish state. He was on the glass, but settled here after I accidentally dislodged him. Maybe he’s better off there as the glass can get very cold in the coming winter.
Dreadful weather is looming in the northern approaches. It’s said to take quite some time to move out. The more hysterical papers call it a “weather bomb”, a huge drop in pressure in short time.
Promise to self: look out for him, with care, he could make it.
Sun and showers, 4°C, NW breeze. Cold house, the kitchen was 10°C when I got home tonight. It’s a few degrees higher now and the fire is roaring in the front room.
The cold has penetrated deeply today, it reached its fingers beneath skin, veins and muscles.
At fifty years old, I am yet to learn to like winter.
Drawing in my work diary, it’s only an inch across.
4°C, grey, Drawing on: snow forecast for tomorrow, winter is stubborn this year. Yes, we have been spoilt by a string of early springs. Nearly Easter, but the magnolia is nowhere near in bloom.
Temperatures have topped 4°C over this last few weeks. At least I can ride to work, the ice is relatively minor.
Heavy Snow says the Met office. Winds will average 15 mph, so some drifting likely.
7°C, sunshine. The Doc says I probably have a second cold straight after the first. Unlucky, but not a serious worry. Presumably, there is no reason that you couldn’t be infected with two colds at once. Snow is on its way, though it may not fall here. The Mirror paper predicts -15C and blizzards, though view predict that every time the temperature dips a little. Nobody believes them any more. Well, no-one worth mentioning does.
13.5°C, grey,mild, dry.
What is this bumble-bee doing up and about today, mid-winter? My guess, the dog disturbed it on wandering about the shrubs in the garden. They hibernate through to spring so maybe the mild weather woke him.
He raised a leg as though in fear- as if to rush me away. He knew I was there and was alert enough to sense threat.
I can’t see him surviving now he’s woken. I gave him some sugar and wished him good luck.I was gentle.
8°C, few showers, sun, no cycling. Recovery: a week of undefined illness has sapped most of my energy. Now it’s lifting I can’t feel the cold, and yes I know the air has dipped below 5C. So, I spent the day recovering.
I became quite geeky later in the afternoon. Geekiness is fuelled by a feeling. It’s a feeling with deep roots, all the way back to childhood.
With a cold like mine, any activities today had to beundemanding, so I spent time looking round Google Earth. In a few places, there are circular mountain ranges that are just too perfect a circle. With a little research, it turns out that many are impact craters. Some are as young as 3.5 million years, which doesn’t sound that old, relatively, geologically. The earth is peppered with them, though some are only detected by their gravity anomalies One contributer has uploaded a .kml file that shows loads more. I was, by now, hooked.
And, this is where it gets geeky, I decided to see how they look in the flight simulator FSX. Some are quite clear, often a near circular lake, or an obvious crater. One, in far eastern Siberia, is not actually an impact crater but an eroded intrusive pipe (Kondyor Massif). Now it’s one of Russia’s biggest platinum mines.
0°C, ice again.
weekend at home- too much marking to go away on adventures. This time of year uncovers what’s been hiding beneath lush grass all summer. English roads and lanes are bordered with unbroken lines of MacDonald’s packaging and mineral water bottles. Some of those water bottles have their sides pierced.
They are always carefully pierced in the same way. Sometimes, a plastic tube remains inserted in the side. It’s a sort of bong left by local druggies. They use this to stupify themselves and then leave with their piles of litter behind.
A bit of detective work could trace them. In the discarded shopping bags, there is often a receipt, which could track the buyer.
A few years ago, someone died in a festival tent in that field. Sometimes I find foil, but never needles. Drugs.
Such is modern life.