Hyperlocalism – that's where I'm at

 "Hyperlocalism is a philosophy that focuses intensively on a very small, well-defined geographic area, such as a specific neighbourhood, village, or a few city blocks, rather than a broader region, nation or continent." Hyperlocalism is about where you're from, not where you're visiting. It is about identity through connection - a connection of repeated subject experience, qualia, memory, awareness, observation, being a part of the local landscape, not just a passer-through.

I'm never going to take an award-winning photo of the Taj Mahal nor capture the ambience of Machu Picchu at dusk, nor snap the Northern Lights from within the Arctic Circle – nor have I any ambitions to do so. And there are so many excellent photos of all of these that have been taken. But to photograph in and around Chynów, year after year – yup, that's very much my thing. The land, and the seasons, and the weather. Locally. Geographic depth, not breadth.

Below: gold in the trees, a warm sun on my back, and the last of the clouds racing away. Just round the first corner from home, heading towards the orchards.

Left: boundary line between the birches and the orchard. The sky was clear overnight; at this time of year, that means frost. Below: looking west along the track from Grabina and Adamów Rososki towards Jakubowizna; there's a puddle at the bottom with ice on it. The first time that's happened this autumn. Meanwhile, the last apples are being gathered in.

The road leading through Adamów Rososki has recently received asphalt, making access to the houses along it so much easier. The top end of the road (below), beyond the last of the houses, is still without asphalt, and it's likely that it will remain so.

Below: another of my favourite views that I must have photographed scores of times; looking up the lane towards my działka. Several minutes after sunset on this occasion. The sublime aesthetic.

Below: the Koleje Mazowieckie przyspieszony (limited stops) double-decker service between Warsaw and Radom Główny approaches Chynów station. It departed W-wa Służewiec station just 23 minutes earlier. Again, the sublime aesthetic.

Below: the western horizon, after the sun has set and the train has passed. A chilly night beckons.

Connecting the local with the eternal and infinite.

This time last year
In the early-November sky

This time two years:
Autumn joy, continued

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

This time eight years ago:
You can always go downtown

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

This time 11 years ago:
Judging PO's eight years in power

This time 12 years ago
Cloudless, 18C – the beauty of Polish autumn

This time 13 years ago: 
Call 19115: Warsaw Fix-my-Street

This time 15 years ago:
Vapour trails at sunset

This time 16 years ago:
Autumnal blues

What surprises does the weather hold?

One of the first things I do after feeding the cats in the morning is to check the weather app, to see what's the optimal time for my daily walk. Today, the forecast seemed totally at odds with reality. Rather than simply resign myself to staying in all day because app say 'rain all day', I chose to go out after an early lunch and risk it.

Below: rain clouds are sliding in from the north west. A few minutes later, I reach Grobice and the rain starts pelting down. I wait it out under the shelter in the park, watching the blue in the sky pushing the grey towards the south east.

Below: new pavement that allows pedestrians to walk in safety from Grobice to the DK50 and Sułkowice beyond. Another valuable infrastructure investment delivered!

Below: looking westwards along the DK50 towards the railway line. Note the tractor towing crates of apples; the harvest is slowly coming to an end.

Below: just by the viaduct, a new pharmaceutical warehouse is being built by the DK50.

The blue sky was sporadic and more grey clouds rolled in, soon extinguished the sun. Below: the local Chynów to Sułkowice road rises over the DK50 to the right, the service road winds along the foot of the embankment.

More rain fell on me on the way home. Left: looking across at the station buildings at Chynów, the railway signals mast on the horizon.

Across the tracks, through the pedestrian tunnel, which at the moment is being repaired. The drainage of the tunnel proved to be inadequate; after heavy autumn rain, the tunnel floor at either end was often flooded – and when frozen in winter, it was a danger to people hurrying for their trains. And once up on the Jakubowizna side, here's the view towards Warsaw, below. Just to the left of the mobile base station, you can see the top of Varso tower, the EU's tallest building. Further to the left (amid the power lines), the grey shape of the Warsaw Unit tower.

Below: up the lane, on my way home. This reminds that it will soon be time to drive down the hill to Pan Piotr's warsztat (left) and get my tyres and oil changed for winter.

Another month with a daily average of over 13,000 paces. And October has come and gone without any overnight air frost, and only one morning of ground frost. Climate change is noticeable.

This time last year:

Letters to an Imaginary Grandson (IX)

This time two years ago:
Valencia and manmade climate change

This time three years ago:
On death

This time five years ago:
Improvements on the Radom line

This time six years ago:
Rural rights of way, revisited

This time seven years ago:

Cause of death

This time eight years ago:
Opole in the late-October sunshine

This time nine years ago:
Work begins in earnest on the Karczunkowska viaduct

This time 11 years ago:
Sublime autumn day in Jeziorki

This time 12 years ago:
CitytoCity, MalltoMall

This time 13 years ago:
(Internet) Radio Days

This time 13 years ago:
Another office move

This time 15 years ago:
Manufacturing a City of Culture

This time 16 years ago:
My thousandth post

This time 17 years ago:
Closure of ul. Poloneza

This time 18 years ago:
Scenes from a suburban petrol station

Beating the time-change blues

The clocks have gone back. All of a sudden, the sun sets at twenty past four in the afternoon. To quote Jacek Koba, "they give you an extra hour in bed in late October, but they'll steal an hour of your daylight every evening for the next five months".

The time change no longer holds any fears for me. I have learnt to deal with the Hammer of Darkness. Stick to summer time the whole year round! Tonight, as for the past three nights, I will go to bed at half past nine (new time) and wake up at half past five (new time) and hang on to that precious hour of evening daylight which they would otherwise have stolen from me.

The only clock to follow is your body clock, not the clock they use to tell you what their time is. (Shame on the politicians for not being able to scrap the nonsense that is the time change. Many people suffer mental health issues as a result of the autumn one, and heart attacks and strokes from the spring one.)

This morning I woke at half past five; by six thirty (seven thirty according to my body clock), the sun had risen, the cats have been fed, coffee had been made and enjoyed, and it was time for an early morning walk. Outside it was +1°C according to my digital thermometer, but frozen dew on vegetation told of ground frost. Puddles, on the other hand were entirely ice-free.

I love these intense autumnal colours. Never mind the temperature; what counts is the clarity of the sky.

Below: looking east at the thermonuclear phenomenon for which we must give thanks.

Below: looking the other way, at a full moon descending in the western skies. As with the sun we owe the moon so much, including our very existence.

Below: with the first frost, it is at last time to gather the sloes, fruit of the blackthorn, prunus spinosa, or in Polish, tarnina. To be gathered after the first frost, for the making of sloe gin. I shall be steeping these in 95% spirytus rektyfikowany for a few months, with sugar to taste. (The red blobs out of focus are rose hips.) Picking blackthorn in the cold, without gloves, mindful of the thorns, isn't easy, still, I have gathered half a kilo, enough for a litre of sloe gin.

Photos from yesterday's afternoon walk. Below: house, car and cat (one of the dozen – Hipek, aka Ol' Mr. Heaps), who awaits my return.

Below: two new houses are being built at the bottom end of my line, near the railway line. The builders are working rapidly to achieve stan surowy zamknięty – 'raw state, closed' – before winter sets in, whereby the unfinished structure is enclosed from the elements, with windows, doors and roof in place.

Below: a Whovian sky, looking towards Chynów station. [Shock discovery: William Hartnell was 13 years younger than I am now when he finally stepped down from his role as the grandfatherly First Dr Who…]

Below: view across the fields to Jakubowizna beyond. This is next June's crop of strawberries, awaiting the straw that protects the young plants from frost and gives the berry its name. My raspberry bushes, on the other hand, are still producing fruit – I gathered 90g yesterday (more than one portion!), and more than double that two days ago.

Below: for apple-growers, this is the busiest time of the years, getting the harvest in before the frosts arrive in earnest. Each crate filled with quality dessert apples is worth 600 złotys at current prices.

Left: Dąbrowa Duża is surrounded by forest to its north and east. I discovered that what I'd assumed for years was just a drive leading to a private property is actually a public road (albeit untarmacked) that's a neat short-cut across the village.

Talking of 'years', it's now nine years since I found my działka in Jakubowizna. An excellent purchase in an excellent location. I could never move back into a city or its suburbs. Green acres is the place to be. Indeed. Having said that, it's always good to know that I can be in central Warsaw in under an hour if necessary. The 08:42 train from Chynów gets me to W-wa Służewiec in 23 minutes, in good time for my 09:30 physio appointment.

Below: the forest between Dąbrowa Duża and Machcin II, leaves beginning to turn gold. In the strong sunlight, the path is easy to tread.

Below: the lane just outside my działka. It will soon be dark, but I will be up well before the next sunrise.

I have just used AI to do my first-ever bit of coding! I wanted to build an app that lets me know, at any time, how long I have to the next sunrise/next sunset. I now have a small box on my desktop that informs me that sunset will be at 16:18 today – in 02 hours, 17 minutes and 10 seconds. I told Google Gemini what I needed, and in simplest terms to explain to me what to do. And so I have used AI to build myself a custom app keeping me aware of celestial movements above me. The whole process of building and testing the app took just over half an hour.

This time three years ago:
Cross-country train-travel tales

This time five years ago:
Mother of Invention

This time six years ago:
Autumnal lockdown walk

This time seven years ago:

End of the warm and sunny part of autumn

This time eight years ago:
Remont of Metro bridge over Puławska

This time nine years ago:
We are what we read, what we watch, what we listen to

This time 13 years ago:
Extraordinarily warm autumn

This time 14 years ago:
On behalf of the work-shy community

This time 15 years ago:
Classic truck cavalcade

This time 16 years ago
Suburban back-roads clogged with commuters

This time 17 years ago:
Autumn gold, Łazienkowski Park

This time 18 years ago:
Quintessential autumnal Jeziorki

The autumn deal

Spring is driven by syntropy; autumn by entropy. The breakdown – necessary for the next growth cycle – is here. The year has turned; the chlorophyll begins to breaks down, cellular machinery is being dismantled; nutrients are withdrawn into roots and woody tissues, leaves start to fall and the process of decomposition has begun. The structures of spring and summer are progressively being taken apart. Below: the long, straight dirt road between Dąbrowa Duża and Rososz.

How to dress comfortably for the changeable weather? Hot when the sun shines, colder when it doesn't

Below: on today's walk to the forest next door, I am accompanied by Céleste and her youngest son, Marss (with two 's's). The brothers and sisters are pumping up the volume – growing rapidly.

That determined facial expression is pure Marrs. 

A bright day brings out the recreational flyers. Here's a Sky Arrow 650 TCNS two-seat light aircraft, built in Italy, registered in Sweden, and a frequent sight over Chynów skies this summer.

Below: at the south-eastern edge of the village of Ławki, the sun comes out. bright and strong and hot. I take off my field jacket and remove the liner, stowing it in my rucksack. After putting the unlined jacket back on, I still feel too warm for comfort.

When the level crossing gate bells started ringing after a local train and an InterCity express had both headed north, I suspected some unusual movement on the tracks. And indeed… A diagnostic-measurement wagon (wagon diagnostyczno-pomiarowy) at the end of a rake of coaches heading north, between Sułkowice and Czachówek Południowy stations. 

Hauling the train is an EP09 locomotive (coincidentally I read today that this class of engine will be withdrawn from passenger-train duties before the end of 2028). This particular example, EP09-012, was built in 1991. It belongs to PKP Remtrak, the subsidiary of PKP group that specialises in repair, maintenance and overhaul of passenger rolling stock. (The above two photos are a bit hazy, despite a lot of Photoshop. When the rain stopped and the sun came out, condensation appeared between my lens and the front filter.)

Below: on the path to north-eastern edge of Ławki, and beyond that, Czachówek Południowy station. Although a hot sun was shining on my back, blowing my way were dark rain clouds bearing more rain. 

With the weather as capricious as it is, I decided not to continue on to Czachówek Górny as planned, but to stop at Czachówek Południowy and from there take the train back to Chynów instead. Below: a southbound InterCity express rushes through Czachówek Południowy, on the 'up' line, having overtaken the local service. The sun goes in behind the clouds, and I button the liner back into my jacket as my train arrives.

Two stops later, it delivered me to Chynów; on the short walk home, once again I was overheating.

Such is autumn, the entropic mirror of spring.

This time last year:
Gliwice – much nicer than I had expected

This time 13 years ago:
Poland does poorly in Global AgeWatch ranking

This time 14 years ago:

Warsaw, early autumn – a photo miscellany

This time 15 years ago:

The genius of Donald Tusk 

This time 16 years ago:

Eighteen die in minibus crash

Morning sun

Into the dark (slightly-less than) half of the year, sunlight is at a premium. An early stroll is called for whenever the sun icon is shown in the weather forecast for the hour or two after sunrise. In any case, I wake before dawn; feed the cats, make coffee and off I go. No apologies for posting another picture taken at this spot for the second time this month; it really gets me. I am filled with gratitude for living here and being so close to nature.

The air is clear and fresh, the world feels bright and alive. Though it hasn't rained here for several days, my suede desert boots and thick socks are sodden with the early-morning dew.

Below: in a clearing between orchards and forest, three young female roe deer suddenly become aware of my presence.

Within an instant, they are off. Fortunately, I was prepared with my Nikkor 70-300mm zoom lens and the camera's shutter at the right setting to catch the motion.

On my short evening walk yesterday, I was accompanied by Czester (looking round), Arcturus and Pacyfik following in the rear. Unlike dogs, no leashes are needed. They'll follow me if they want to; if they don't – they won't. Today I was followed into the next-door forest by Céleste, her five kittens, Uncle Scrapper and Ol' Mr. Heaps. 

Left: the second morning walk, down ulica Słoneczna towards Chynów. Look down the road. As I walked west, I wish this road ran for twenty miles, a hundred. To walk and walk and walk. And stop for lunch and an ale before catching a train home.

Below: Chytown Central. The golden years. Cherish them while they're here. These will be said to have been the best of times. Peace, rising prosperity and good governance. It's almost midday; morning will very soon be over.

Below: Is this Taos, New Mexico? Are we on the the edge of the desert? No, this is ulica Główna, Chynów. Bungalow, ranch-style under a south-western sky. Beautiful.

Below: on the way from the orchard, an apple train of four wagons, each bearing three szkryniopalety, (palletised crates), each with a capacity of 300kg of apples. With the current prices as they are, at the lower end of the spectrum, say, 2zł per kilo wholesale, this lot represents at least 7,000 zł (around £1,400) of table apples. Retail – two-and-half times that.

Below: the vibe is Americana. The DK50 Chynów-Drwalew bypass to the left, the service/access road to the right. Passing under the main road is the Warsaw-Radom railway line.

Turning in and headed for home. A train is due. And indeed, here it its, on time, next stop Chynów, final stejszyn, Radom Główny. This is a Stadler FLIRT (Fast Light Innovative Regional Train), built in Siedlce. As a passenger, I prefer the NEWAG Impuls (also Polish-built); the button to open the door reacts instantly, sparing that moment when you worry if it's working or not on the FLIRT. 

Jakubowizna at its most sublime. The trees, the space, the sky, the light. A blissful prospect. A little bit further down the lane, and I'll be home to lunch.

As I write, Hipek is fast asleep in the cat tower, snoring the sweetest little snore... 

Bonus photo snapped on Sunday: a PZL M-18B Dromader water-bomber belonging the Poland's state forestry organisation, Lasy Państwowe.

This time three years ago:
By the light of the silvery moon

This time 14 years ago:
Łódź, city of culture

This time 15 years ago:
Nine days before the parliamentary elections

This time 16 years ago:
Melancholy mood in Łazienki park, early autumn

This time 19 years ago:
Flamenco sketches