In England we have this saying about the weather in March and years ago most of us would have recognised it as pretty accurate. But these days the weather is much less predictable it seems. This year March came in like a lamb, turned lion-like, then back to lamb for a short spell before becoming very fiercely lion until the very last day when the lamb reappeared!
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The days in January may be short, and the sun in short supply. In England we’ve had more than our fair share of rain this month, or so it seemed. But there were also some brighter, if colder, days. And at the start of the month even some snow (relatively rare these days).
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As we start a new year of Monday Walks I want to look back to one taken right at the end of last year, on New Years Eve. We were staying in Newcastle over the new year holidays with bright if chilly weather, perfect for a walk by the sea. So we took the Metro to Cullercoats and set off on the short but always lovely stroll to Tynemouth.
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Long or short, every year ends with December, which for many of us means the build-up to the Christmas celebrations. And for those who like me live in the Northern Hemisphere, it also means short days, long dark nights and cold weather.
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The Roman poet Horace said that 'a picture is a poem without words'. Of course he would not have known about photography, living as he did over two thousand years ago. But I’m sure if he had, he would have looked for poems in photos.
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I am writing this at the end of March and spring seems definitely to have arrived in London. Street trees are in blossom, birds are more active and more vocal, and our garden is awakening. But my ‘story’ starts back in the tail-end of winter, February.
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I remember many a snowy January as a child, including some very bad ones. And well into my adult years snow was a regular occurrence. But in recent years we’ve seen it less and less, although northern England still gets its fair share. This January it probably got more than its fair share, as storms hit the UK, but in London we saw only a dusting of snow first thing one morning, gone almost as soon as it got light.
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I confess I’m not a fan of winter, it’s my least favourite season. Yes, I love Christmas: enjoying festive celebrations with family and friends, decorating the house, seeing the lights in London. And I can get pleasure from crisp sunny days, perfect for a walk whether in London or on a Northumberland beach. But I don’t like grey skies, and I especially don’t like the shorter days and longer nights.
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There’s a feeling of autumn in the air as we reach the end of August and head into September. And that's even though recently we’ve had some of the loveliest days of our rather patchy summer. Some leaves are beginning to turn, or even drop, and there are berries on many of the street trees in Ealing.
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While many of England’s grand houses were (and in some cases still are) home to the aristocracy, others were built by those hoping to emulate or even join that exclusive set. The so-called ‘landed gentry’ indeed had land but no titles, although they aspired to climb the social ladder. Among them was Sir George Bowes, a coal baron from north east England.
