This week I have been captivated by a photograph taken by a member of my Facebook group (Picture That Walk). It shows a handful of fallen leaves, and the array of colours is simply incredible. Another photograph also caught my eye, taken on the Woodcock Way circular walk in Dalby Forest, and again, the autumn colours are just spectacular.
I was doing some research among my dad’s files for another project when I came a across an old police bulletin from 1982. These were notices that were circulated within the police force when, for example, they were on the lookout for a fugitive. They would contain information such as a description of a suspect, the registration number, colour, make and model of relevant vehicles, as well as instructions on places of interest to search, such as towns, roads, ports, motorway services and motor a
I heard a tragic story this week involving a friend who lives in a Welsh village. She was walking her Springer Spaniel Izzy on her lead along a footpath near her home. A massive tractor came hurtling through, pulling behind it a double set of trailers (that is two trailers attached one behind the other, a bit like train carriages). The driver was going far too fast, and was apparently oblivious to anything except the road ahead. He seemed unaware that there were folk walking on the paths, unawar
I think of myself as someone who doesn’t readily worry about life’s curveballs and if obstacles cross my path then I will find a way to overcome them.
You may have noticed, thanks to the long, dry summer we’ve just had, that our farmers gathered in their cereal crops pretty early this year. Where I live, they were all done by the middle of August, which seems a long way before the traditional Harvest Festival celebrations which occur in September around the autumn equinox (which falls on Friday 23rd September 2022).
You might remember that I recently wrote about some curious pea-sized holes that had appeared on one of my walking routes. It was the day after Warmageddon, the hottest day of the year, and I wondered whether it could be subterranean worms coming to the surface in a bid to escape the scorched earth surrounding them.
I was at a lovely country cottage that’s for sale in Ryedale recently, just doing some final checks before the potential buyers arrived, when I heard what sounded like the low hum of a Lancaster bomber.
In last week’s column, I discussed what I nicknamed ‘Warmageddon’, which was Tuesday 19th July when temperatures across the UK hit unprecedented heights, peaking at over 40°C for the first time since records began. The following day they plummeted by a whopping 15°C, a drop the like of which seems only to happen in the UK.
