Today is the second day of winter here in fenland. As I sit eating my fortified porridge and look out of the kitchen window on the desolation of the fenland landscape, I’m reminded of all those classic tales of windswept moors and bleak rain-soaked mountains…
Fenland is as flat as a pancake!
There are no points of interest at all in any direction. Other than the rickety grain barn with the busted down pipe pissing rain all over the foundations on which it stands.
In the far distance 3 huge chimney stacks obscured by fog belch out their noxious emissions from the production of your favourite oven chips. I’m sure this has been fenagled into some carbon offset nonsense?
I often think of going for a walk down these lanes but I get over it very fast as my toes feel the warmth of the underfloor heating.
Should we get out in all weathers just because we have the right clothing? Or is it more sensible to batten down the hatches and wait for signs of spring?
My North American chums must look at the UK and think. ‘That’s not winter’ What a bunch of ninnies!
In our defence. In this particular region of the East of England, we are battered daily by the icy blast from the Ural Mountains which whips across Europe of which we are no longer a part.
Finding an interesting composition in this flat land is quite a challenge but one I am always willing to attempt. It does have a certain beauty. This vast expansive vista opens the mind to possibilities.
Gently falling snow
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