WinterCity, SummerCountry

My fourth day on the działka, thanks to the long Corpus Christi weekend. Plenty of walking, fresh air and late-spring sunshine. More chances to ponder on the difference between the town and country.

Poland was still a largely rural country at the end of WW2; in 1950 over 63% of Poles lived na wsi (in villages/in the country/in rural communities). By 2017, this had fallen to 40% - the same as the percentage of rural Britons in 1867!  One hundred and fifty years of difference! 

Few of the people I have got to know over the past 24 years living and working in Poland were born in Warsaw (or, as in my case, have at least one parent born in Warsaw). This, I posit, has a large impact on people's outlook on life - and indeed, their levels of determination. Yet now, Poland's process of urbanisation has of late been turning into one of suburbanisation, a trend which the pandemic will accelerate. Warsaw's exurbs are expanding rapidly as a result.

Although my entire life has been spent living and working in a capital city, the 'living' bit has always been suburban - within 10 miles of the centre. And all my working life has been spent in the centre of a capital city, so commuting has been a regular part of it. The pandemic may be easing, but I intend to continue working remotely as much as possible, coming in only for those events that cannot be joined online. This gives me the potential to work more from the działka, which in summer and into autumn is a heavenly place to be. The walks are more varied; the sunsets sublime, the absence of traffic - the quiet.

And this evening, returning from my sunset stroll - it suddenly clicked. 

Winter is like breathing in - summer like breathing out. 

Winters should be about working hard, reading by the fireside, studying, exercising, saving - and living in abstinence. Winter - the inner life; the life of the mind.

Summer should be about letting go. Enjoyment; spending what you've saved. Seeking the sublime, avoiding stress, chilling out.

October to March - puritanism. April to September - epicureanism. 

Village life in winter is dismal. Outside it's grim; indoors - there's not much to do. But in the city, there is plenty to keep the mind active in winter - theatres, cinemas, concert halls, art galleries, museums. 

Winter - hurry yourself along - summer is long awaited! And when it comes, may summer time move more slowly; there's no rush. [There are weather-related exceptions - beautiful cloudless days with startlingly blue skies and -20C of frost in midwinter, and longer rainy stretches in summer when the rain won't cease, it's cool, damp and miserable. But I'm generalising.]

Once nature explodes into life (this year's spring was exceptionally muted, weather-wise), the country is the place to be. Long rambles through woods and fields and orchards and meadows offering a communion with nature on a scale that urban parks cannot match. Motorbike rides along rural backroads, exploring further afield than your feet alone will take you. Covering ground, opening geographical horizons, rather than just mental ones.

I can see looking back at my exercise routines over the past seven years that a pattern is emerging. Dry Januaries lead into an abstemious Lent. Then spring kicks in - the exercising lessens, the booze starts to flow (but more walking than ever - though at a slower pace than in winter). But as autumn nights begin to lengthen and the dread Hammer of Darkness approaches - it's time to withdraw, pump up those exercises with the aim of beating last year. Then there'll be a few mad days around Christmas and the New Year - celebrating the Return of the Sun - and the year's framework is complete.

Now's is the time to enjoy life, time to take a long pause, recharge the batteries. Soak up the sun.

Left and below: two photos from the same spot, one looking east at midday, one looking towards the sunset. 

When I set off this morning, the sky was cloudless; on my walk I could see clouds bubbling up in a line over where the Vistula is, some 15km to the east - convection clouds; bodies of water releasing vapour and forming clouds that rise and merge. 

There was no rain today, however, just the threat of it. By the evening, that threat had passed, the condensation clouds had blown away. All was good for a second walk, to catch the setting sun - my Jakubowizna ritual. 

This time last year:
Homage to Americana
[more photos from the same spot. It resonates with me.]

This time two years ago:
This land is my land

[Two years since I doubled the size of my działka]

This time six years ago:
The day, seized.

This time nine years ago:
Classic British cars for British week

This time ten years ago:
Cara al Sol - a short story

This time 11 years ago:
Pumping out the floodwater

This time 12 years ago:
To Góra Kalwaria and beyond

This time 13 years ago:
Developments in Warsaw's exurbs