Autumn joy, continued

Blessed be the weather! Another mostly cloudless week – good for my soul. The strong sunshine brings out the vibrance of the leaves as they change colour; soon they will have dropped and the magic will have passed. But until then, an autumn wonderland beckons, each day's walk being glorious. In the meanwhile... do I feel my dreams are more vivid and memorable on cloudless nights?

Below: forest crossroads. Unasphalted tracks. To the left, Dąbrowa Duża. Straight on for Jakubowizna. Right for Machcin, and behind me, from where I've just come from, Rososz. 

Below: the train at the end of the lane – a Koleje Mazowieckie local service to Radom via Warka slows down as it approaches Chynów station. It's just 23 more minutes to Chynów from town compared to Jeziorki (or 16 minutes on the przyspieszony services). Worth every minute of it to be out in the country.

Below: sunrise this morning, as seen from my kitchen. An additional benefit to going to bed super early is having that hour of daylight to enjoy in the morning. Had I gone to bed at half past eleven, I'd have missed it. As it is, having gone to bed at half past nine, I have this view while sipping my morning coffee and listening to Farming Today on Radio 4.

And (roughly) the same view below, but in the afternoon, about half an hour before sunset. The birches and aspens are rapidly losing leaf.

In the orchards, the apples have long gone. An early harvest this year. Below: looking along a row of young apple trees, and an arable field beyond the tall trees beyond.

Below: my house beneath a polarised sky, sliders for texture and clarity both set to minimum to give a soft-focus dreamlike effect.

Left: distant view of my działka seen from across a newly ploughed field on the other side of Jakubowizna. You can't see the house (too far back) but you can see both gates and the fence. The medium-tension electricity pylons go over my land and serve the next village north of Jakubowizna, Nowe Grobice.

Below: the corner of ulica Miodowa (lit. 'Honey Street') and ul. Główna ('Main Street') in Chynów, against a low sun.

Below: photo taken on Sunday. This is the parish church of Rososz, which has been serving surrounding villages since 1985. It was built at the wishes of Fr. Tadeusz Stokowski (murdered in unexplained circumstances in his parish of Michalczew in 1990).

Below: as of September this year, a newcomer to the skies over Warsaw, the Boeing 777 wet-leased by LOT Polish Airlines from Portuguese carrier EuroAtlantic to service the Warsaw-New York route until March 2025. Here is CS-TFM over Chynów, starting its left turn towards its final approach towards Okęcie airport.

There may be more of this joyous material as the weather forecast for the next week is settled. More autumnal sun tomorrow!

This time five years ago:
Recycling my father's possessions

This time six years ago:
You can always go downtown

This time eight years ago:
Opinions vs facts – our media today

This time nine years ago:
Judging PO's eight years in power

This time ten years ago
Cloudless, 18C – the beauty of Polish autumn

This time 11 years ago: 
Call 19115: Warsaw Fix-my-Street

This time 13 years ago:
Vapour trails at sunset

This time 14 years ago:
Autumnal blues

First frost, 2024

My blog is a subjective account rather than an exhaustive and objective list. Over the years I have been noting the occurrence of the first frost of autumn, though not every one, only the ones that for some reason moved me to record them. So although patchy, the table below shows that date of first frost jumps around from year to year. However, a clear pattern is visible – I've not recorded first frost as late as November until 2017, and since then, not one has been noted in October.

Screening out confirmation bias – a climate-change denier might say "you simply missed out all the data points that don't fit". Well, go back over my blog and find me a first frost in November prior to 2015, or a first frost in October after 2017. There might have been one – but I didn't blog it. Not because I have an ideological axe to grind – but because it didn't move me enough to mention it. And click through the links below to check if you don't believe me.

Year	Date of first frost
2024	3 November
2020	25 November
2018	17 November
2017	21 November
2015	9 October
2014	24 October
2013	4 October
2011	16 October
2009	31 October
2007	16 October

This is not meant to be empirical proof anything. It may well be that next October there's a frost as early as 1 October. The table stands as a statement that over less than two decades, there is a noticeable shift in climate; winters are getting shorter.

One benefit is that I've yet to switch on the heating. This morning at quarter to seven, the kitchen thermometer read 17.5°C inside and -3.8°C outside; boiling the kettle and making myself some porridge and toast soon warmed the kitchen up to a comfortable 20°C.

This time two years ago:
Jeziorki Park + Ride finally opens

This time three years ago:
Are you serious about going green?

This time four years ago:
Nail-biting walk
[This beckons in three days' time]

This time six years ago:
Insights in the search for consciousness

This time seven years ago:
Loving Vincent - review

This time 11 years ago:
UFO credibility test

This time 12 years ago:
Junction ready for road to unbuilt sports centre

This time 13 years ago:
Park nad Książecem – Vistula escarpment, beautiful autumn

This time 16 years ago:
Obama wins US presidential election

To Warka, again

The nearness by train of Warka makes it an attractive destination for a short day out. Today's excursion takes me to the park at the eastern edge of the town, which houses the Kazimierz Pułaski museum. This (below) was his family home, Winiary, before he set off for America to become the brigadier-general and founder of the Continental Army cavalry fighting against the British for American independence.

Pułaski was fatally wounded while leading a charge at Savannah in October 1779, dying soon after. His leadership of his Cavalry Legion in the revolutionary army led to him being remembered as a hero who fought for independence and freedom in the US. Pułaski's name lives on in many American towns, counties, parks, highways. Warka sees Kazimierz Pułaski as the town's most famous son. Right: Pułaski's statue in the park by the family home, Winiary; his date of birth in 1747 and death in Savannah in 1779 are noted.

Basking in the autumnal sun, a terracotta pair outside the Pułaski museum. Round the base, translated lines from T.S. Eliot's The Hollow Men: "Waking alone/At the hour when we are/Trembling with tenderness/Lips that would kiss/Form prayers to broken stone."

Incidentally, The Hollow Men begins with a famous quote from Joseph Conrad's The Heart of Darkness: "Mistah Kurtz – he dead." a neat circular nod to another Polish legend.

The museum parklands slope down towards the banks of the Pilica, from where I continued my stroll upstream back towards the town. Despite the gorgeous day (once again entirely cloudless), there were few people out and about, though the town's newly opened pump track attracted a goodly number of mountain-bike racers.

Crossing Warka, I passed the town's other significant producer of alcoholic beverages (the first being the Warka brewery owned by Żywiec/Heineken); this is Warwin SA (below), producer of not-from-concentrate apple juices, ciders and fruit wines. Like several other businesses I passed, there are signs outside saying that the firm requires employees. The Grójec poviat or district, of which the gmina or municipality of Warka is part, currently has an unemployment rate of 2.6%, compared to 5.0% for Poland overall. Shops and restaurants are also finding difficulty recruiting employees.

Having fallen on harder times, Warka's flour mill stands abandoned. I daresay it would make for an attractive block of post-industrial loft spaces.

Back to my favourite thoroughfare in Warka, ulica Lotników, below. There's some universally pan-European feel about the place – it's like it could be a somnolent village in rural Spain, France, Portugal or Italy rather than half an hour by InterCity train from Warsaw.

The sun, even at its zenith, is low in the sky, casting long shadows. On the short train journey back to Chynów, the fields and forests and orchards were stunningly gorgeous, setting me adrift on those familiar moments of exomnesia; recognition that consciousness spans more than a lifetime.

This time last year:
Early-November reflections

This time five years ago:

Autumn moods, Ealing

This time six years ago
Walks in the early-November sun

This time nine years ago:
Foggy evening, London

This time ten year:
Kraków – Europe's top short-break destination 

This time 12 years ago:
Rzeczpospolita publishes infamous 'trotyl' Smolensk story

This time 13 years ago:
Wilanowska - south Warsaw transport hub

This time 15 years ago:
Powiśle on a cold, clear autumn morning

This time 16 years ago:
Okęcie "to remain Warsaw's only airport"

This time 17 years ago:
Searching for autumnal perfection

All Saints' Day, Chynów

A day of importance for me; my mother died on this day in 2015; my father on 28 October in 2019. The time of year, as nights draw in and darkness spreads, makes one mindful of the presence among us of death – the separation of consciousness from the biological body.

I walked to Chynów to wander around the graves, visited by the families of the dead. Bearing bags full of large candles, they clean the graves and bring light to their loved ones' places of rest. A beautiful tradition – eminently more meaningful than the tacky commercialism of Hallowe'en.

Below: I arrive about half an hour after sunset, the western sky still iridescent, purple-gold.

Below: it seems that most of the visits have already taken place; rare is the grave without any candles upon it.

Below: looking west towards the newest sectors of the cemetery, I daresay a few Covid victims here too. Visitors are well-dressed and dignified. A solemn and important occasion. I frame shots so as to avoid including people.

Below: looking east across from the western edge of the cemetery. As a general observation, I was shocked by how young the average person buried here were when they died. Most men died in their mid 60s, with those dying in their 80s being outliers.

Prelude: before setting off for the cemetery, I went for a shorter walk to catch the autumn colours on the sunlit trees. Below: the path to the forest passes through a small thicket separating two orchards.

Left: the track leading down from Jakubowizna to Grobice, orchards and woods on either side. The local authorities had to abandon plans to asphalt this into a proper road, but the farmers didn't want to sell their land to widen the track. So grass triumphed, and I must say I'm rather glad.

Below: looking north as the setting sun illuminates the golden treetops. The sky is perfectly clear; the apples have all been picked.

Postscript: I left the cemetery by the rear gate leading down to the river, and turned right towards ulica Parkowa. "Interesting... there are lights on in one of the shops..." I got closer and a wonderful sight befell me. A kebab shop! Doing boffo biz – from ordering my large beef kebab in thin pitta bread with hot sauce to finishing it, I reckon that about 20 people must have come in, including two Nepalese women. Now, a Nepalese restaurant is something else I'd love to see in Chynów! I hope the Luxor Kebab does well and encourages the local population that eating out is a good thing, encouraging others to open up some more eateries in Chynów.

This time two years ago:
Thoughts on the occasion of Allhallowtide 

This time two years ago:
Four days of sublime Golden Autumn

This time five years ago:
Obit

This time six years ago:
Good News

This time eight years ago:

Jeziorki railway modernisation - update

This time nine years ago:
On the death of my mother

This time ten years ago:
Marek Raczkowski on All Saints' Day

This time 11 years ago:
Disclosure of UFOs - are we ready? 

This time 12 years ago:
Jeziorki pond development

This time 13 years ago:
Captain Wrona's perfect gear-up landing

This time 16 years ago:
Where's the daylight gone?

This time 17 years ago:
All Saints' Day - Wszystkich Świętych