Melting in the rain

Weather forecasts are getting increasingly accurate ever-further into the future; I made the most of the ice to explore frozen local wetlands over the past two weekends, knowing that by the middle of this week a thaw is due. Replacing the frost – rain, slush, mud and treacherous remnants of ice to trip the unwary.

Yesterday still had stretches of my road covered by ice from verge to verge; walking to the shops in Chynów, I had to walk along the roadway of ulica Wspólna as the pavement was way too slippery. Today, with the exception of stretches of path in the forest where the ice clung on, the asphalt and pavement were clear. Clear - but wet.

Below: the corner of my street and the one leading towards Nowe Grobice. Yesterday, that asphalt was almost impossible to walk over; today, ground that had been covered in snow lies under water.

Below: blackberry plantation, Chynów. Water flows into lower-lying parts of the plot; if not drained, the the water will just stand there. Under the soil, there's a thick, impermeable layer of clay.

Below: at the edge of the forest by the railway line. The stretch without asphalt is impassable to cars in several places. Beneath the meltwater - thick mud.

Below: waterlogged forest road between Chynów and Krężel. Here and there between the trees, the last of the disappearing snow, dirty and grey, melts into the ground.

Left: water and ice. My boot is up to the top of its sole in meltwater, under which there's a still-solid layer of ice. There was a brief thaw that failed to melt the thick ice from the week when overnight temperatures were in minus double-digits; more snow fell onto that, iced over, and that top layer has now melted.

Looking at my step-counter, I see that minutes of medium-to-high-intensity walking this January (48 minutes per day on average) is way down on last January's 63 minutes – this is due to the ground being covered with snow and/or ice for so much of this month. I have to walk with care, more slowly.

Below: barns in Janów, between Krężel and Michalczew. Sodden land; drainage ditches overflowing. And now, it starts raining. And the rain is cold. I have a flashback to a Polish scouts' fieldcraft exercise on Wimbledon Common in the early 1970s; a broad, sandy thoroughfare, used by horse-riders, silver birches on either side – and an atavistic memory of the Pripet Marshes in the 19th century.

Below: looking up the line from Michalczew – having walked seven kilometres from home, I catch the train back to Chynów. Once on the działka, I check my paces – over 13,000.

This time eight years ago:
The Polish Individualist

This time nine years ago:
Winter woes and a crisis of creativity

This time 11 years ago:
Warsaw – the more it snows

This time 12 years ago:
Get orf my lairnd!

This time 13 years ago:
A Dream Too Far - short story

This time 14 years ago:
Compositions in white, blue and gold

This time 15 years ago:
Dobra and the road

This time 16 years ago:
Polish air force plane full of VIPs crashes on landing in fog