Showing posts with label hammer of darkness. Show all posts
Showing posts with label hammer of darkness. Show all posts

Sunday, 16 November 2025

Walking under the clouds

Not the best weather for walking, but those daily paces are essential. Below: the former village shop in Machcin, long closed. A reminder to use or lose your local services before they get steamrollered by corporate power and consumers' drive for low-cost convenience. This one might be gone, but there are similar local stores in Grobice, Widok and Rososz; I make a point of popping into these when out on my walks to make some small purchases, water or in summer beer, snacks, cat-food, and anything I've run out of at home. And just to say hello to the shopkeepers, to be recognised as a local. Community is important in rural parts.



Below: something most welcome – the prospect of roadworks and 860m of sorely needed asphalt from the Jakubowizna-Machcin road (from which the photo was taken) to Dąbrowa Duża in the distance. This would link the new asphalt from Gaj Żelechowski and Dąbrowa Duża (completed in April this year) with the network of roads running east from Jakubowizna. Will the new road be opened to traffic before the local by-election for wojt (mayor) of Chynów gmina (municipality) on 7 December?


Left: orchards now without apples or leaves; it will be five and half months before they fill with blossom.

Back home, though it's early afternoon, the sun, is low in the sky. It struggles bravely to peek through the low cloud.



Left: out at the far end of my garden. One circumnavigation of my land is a seven minutes/700-step stroll. Beyond the fence lies yet another orchard. My fence lies within Grobice rather than Jakubowizna, along with the furthest-most three metres or so of the działka. Whilst I have a ban on harming nature (including plantlife) on my land, I do keep the path clear of overhanging branches with the lopper and shears.

Home from my walk, I'm met by my cats, who associate my return with feeding time. I shall not disappoint them!

Three weeks into winter time, and I'm still sticking to summer time, going to bed as I did yesterday at quarter to ten and waking up just before six. Not a minute of daylight missed. The Hammer of Darkness dodged again.

This time two years ago:
Using it not so as not to lose it
(Wars restaurant cars in Polish trains!)

This time five years ago:
Another dream of Dziadio

This time ten years ago:
Teetering between rage and reason

This time 11 years ago:
Poland – it works!

This time 13 years ago:
Foggy evening on Aleja Szucha










Friday, 7 November 2025

Bright autumnal moods

Since Wednesday morning, the weather has been begging for my constant presence outdoors. In response, I have been breaking up my walks to get some paces in early, then some more around lunchtime, and then again around sunset. Below: golden leaves on silver birches against a perfectly blue sky, on the farm track between Jakubowizna and Grobice


Below: around the corner from my działka, returning from a morning walk, the sun still low in the sky.


Below: early afternoon, the level crossing between Chynów and Węszelówka. A local Koleje Mazowieckie train on its way to Radom, and in the distance, the PKP InterCity Lubomirski TLK service from Szczecin to Zakopane heading down the 'up' line, about to overtake the local train.


The sunset walk: this is the currently vacant Sala Venus, the restaurant behind the former BP (now Transoil) petrol station. Once a thriving venue for wedding receptions, the premises await a new operator.


Below: the Droga Krajowa nr. 50 (DK50), Warsaw's de facto southern ring-road. Will this become a motorway within the next eight to ten years? Keep following this blog.


Below: frozen with a 1/500th second exposure (rather than a long exposure like here), the Koleje Mazowieckie Radomianka limited-stop double-decker service approaches Chynów station at the end of my lane.


The combination of a full/almost full moon and a clear sky prompted short nocturnal strolls to the end of the asphalt and beyond a bit further into the orchards.


"Don't the moon look lonesome, shinin' through the trees" – moonrise from my działka.


My weather app suggests that the spell of four days of blue sky and relatively warm weather is an approaching an end; a foggy start tomorrow. Nearly two weeks of early-to-bed, early-to-rise, plus lots of sunshine, and the Hammer of Darkness is nowhere to be felt.


This time last year:
Memories, memes and dreams

This time two years ago:
Fully automatic – intuitive intelligence

This time four years ago:
A deeply spiritual experience

This time five years ago:

This time eight years ago:
Gliwice's new station

This time ten years ago:
Reanimated – my father's car 

This time 11 years ago:
Defending Poland against hybrid warfare 

This time 12 years ago:
Another office move

This time 14 years ago:
PiS splits again – Solidarna Polska formed 

This time 15 years ago:
Tesco vs. Auchan
[Since then Tesco has left Poland and I'm still boycotting Auchan – let its owners choke on their fucking roubles.]

This time 18 years ago:
My father's house

Thursday, 30 October 2025

Cherish the Morning Light

Five days into the time change, and my strategy is paying off handsomely. I am still going to sleep four and half hours after sunset and waking up an hour before sunrise. Society, however, has combined to move its activities an hour back. This causes humans to go to bed and rise an hour later than hitherto; this did not happen to cats. Their circadian rhythm goes on as it has done, dictated by dawn and dusk. You may wish to benefit from a lie-in, but animals need feeding at the regular time.

The main reason I ignore the time change is to make the most of the shrinking day. Less than ten hours today, and by 21 December, the shortest day, we'll have less than eight hours of daylight. Missing the dawn because you've been told that it's acceptable to have a lie-in is bad for mental health, as is staying up that extra hour later in the evening. My bedroom clock remains set to summertime, keeping me grounded in solar realities.

And so, I went to bed yesterday at 10pm (11pm summertime) and woke up at 5:30am (6:30am summertime). Eight and half hours in bed, waking up twice for a wee (and dropping off straight after). A good night's sleep. Out of bed, I feed the kittens, make myself a coffee, open the laptop, click on BBC Radio 4 expecting to hear Farming Today to find that it's not even 5am in London yet. But I have gained an hour's daylight, and having eaten breakfast, the sun rises. So around half past six I am ready to go out for my first walk of the day. I get 8.000 paces in before returning home in good time for the morning call with the office.


Below: round the corner from my działka on the unpaved road that winds its way towards Grobice. Three new houses are currently being built along this stretch.


Below: back home and the kittens are out in the front garden. Right-click to open the image in a new tab, then expand it to see them – all five together (from l to r: Czestuś, Pacio, Arkcio, Céleste and Scrapper).


Below: zooming on them. A good breakfast, then out in the open air. What more could growing kittens require?


Having done the bulk of the day's paces in the morning, I can focus on work until the mid-afternoon, and then get ready to chase the sunset. Should be a good one! Below: looking at the DK50 at Nowe Grobice.


Below: a double-decker Koleje Mazowieckie train approaches Chynów station against a dramatic sky.


Two walks, total over 13,000 paces; daily average across the first ten months of this year is just over 12,500 paces every day since 1 January.

This time last year:
Post-consumerist hygiene

This time last year:
October's benign end

This time two years ago:
Disclosure day tomorrow?
[Next congressional UFO hearing: 13 November 2024]

This time three years ago:
Coping with time change (go to bed an hour earlier!)

This time four years ago:
A sustainable food system for rural Poland

This time five years ago:
Sifting through a life

This time seven years ago:
Throwing It All Away

This time nine years ago:
Hammer of Darkness falls on us again
[This is what going to be early in winter protects us from!]

This time ten years ago:
The working week with the clocks gone back

This time 12 years:
Slowly on the mend after calf injury

This time 13 years ago:
Thorunium the Gothick

This time 14 years ago:
Łódź Widzew or Widź Łódzew 

This time 16 years ago:
A touch of frost in the garden

Saturday, 25 October 2025

Tonight of all nights... GO TO BED EARLY!

[That is, if you are in the least bit troubled by seasonal affective disorder.]

The prospect of an extra hour in bed is tempting at this increasingly drear point in the calendar. But that hour is merely lent to you by 'them', and 'they' intend to take it back from you at the end of the day. As the clocks go back at two am tomorrow, Sunday 26 October, to be set for one am, the effect is that we gain an hour's daylight in the morning, but lose it in the evening. 

That loss of an hour's evening daylight, every day, between now and the end of March 2026, can exacerbate the mood disorder brought on by the encroaching winter darkness. The condition is more marked (affecting more people more strongly) the further towards the poles one lives. Symptoms of winter SAD often include falling asleep earlier in the evening, oversleeping or difficulty waking up in the morning, nausea, and a tendency to overeat, often with a craving for carbohydrates and subsequent weight gain. There is also subsyndromal SAD (which I get), a milder form, which affects two and half times more people than the full-blown SAD.

Since equilux a month ago, I have as usual noticed that I tend to go to bed earlier and sleep longer (typically being in bed by 22:30 and sleeping for nine hours, waking at 07:30). In high summer, I tend to sleep for just over seven hours.

My remedy to the Hammer of Darkness is to ignore the time change; make the most of the decreasing daylight hours by going to bed earlier and getting up earlier on Sunday morning. Eschew that lie-in. Tonight, and for as many nights as you can, go to bed at least one hour earlier, and wake up an hour earlier. This will mean waking up before dawn, witnessing sunrise, making the most of mid-December's seven-hour days, and going to bed as early as you can. 

Yesterday it rained all day, but this morning was beautifully cloudless, I was up for an early walk (not a long one it must be said) before breakfast, but that walk in the sun set me up for the day, and I caught the sunset too. Today it was at 17:20. Tomorrow it will be at 16:18. Each day sees less and less daylight, until we reach the plateau of darkness (from 9 to 16 December, the sun sets here at 15:24, and from 27 December to 2 January, it rises at 07:43). From the Winter Solstice, the day's net length will start to increase, noticeably by New Year's Day. And then, on 18 March, we reach equilux. The day will be just over 12 hours in length.

Below: morning in the wood next door with my six cats. Czestuś (right), being orange, blends in perfectly with the fallen foliage at this time of year. Photo take shortly after nine am today; were I to have taken it tomorrow, the sun will be casting these shadows shortly after eight am. Make the most of the morning light!

Unlike preparations for the spring time change, which take several days, combating SAD or SSAD at this time of year is simple – just go to bed a little earlier today, and wake up a little earlier tomorrow.

Never mind the time change. The only clocks that count are your body clock and the rising and setting of the sun. Czas jest umowny; time is something we socially agree upon, what time we meet, at what time television programmes etc are shown. YouTube and Play Again functions means we are no longer slaves to TV schedules; if something's on too late, watch it at some other time. But if you are prone to the seasonal blues caused by long nights and insufficient daylight, the least you can do is to benefit from that morning hour and go to bed early.

Stop scrolling. Go to bed... now!

This time three years ago
Public transport improvements

This time last year:
Sublime autumn, Jeziorki

This time six years ago:
New track from Chynów to Warka

This time seven years ago:


Saturday, 30 September 2023

Hottest September in Poland?

The last week (today excepted - it rained for a while) gives me mixed feelings. On the one hand, who could complain about six unbroken days of cloudless skies and heat (26C - 28C maxes) - dry heat, without mosquitos - at the end of September? Except that it is the end of September. We are a week past Equinox, night is longer than day, and the forecast for Tuesday, 3 October, suggests a daytime high for Warsaw of 26C. (If it exceeds 25.9C - then that will be another temperature record broken this year.)

While we are benefiting from the gorgeous weather in terms of our samopoczucie (perceived mental/ physical wellbeing), we must also be aware that climate change is real and is unfolding before our eyes. Tracking data is one thing, and we must ground our understanding of climate change on scientific data, but the subjective memory - that can play tricks - is important too. Septembers in Warsaw do happen to be sunny. However, yesterday, Poland's meteorological institute announced that September 2023 was 3.9C hotter than the average temperatures for the month. [An excellent breakdown of September temperature this year in Poland here.]

Here in Chynów, the apple harvests are in full swing, trees full of fruit - another good season, despite the relative lack of rainfall. We have also been spared any extreme weather events - no tree-uprooting winds, no flash floods, and no thunderstorms yielding golf-ball-size hailstones. Yet when the weather doesn't play the cosmic trickster, folk keep to their old ways - tractors standing in fields or orchards, engines idling, burning diesel and pumping emissions into the air. The farmer fails to see the need to turn the engine off. Same at the level crossing - when the barriers falls, it's around three minutes until the train passes and the barriers rise. Yet only the newest cars which have engines that automatically cut out when stationary aren't spewing CO2 into the air.

New York City hasn't been so lucky, hit with flash floods that led to a state of emergency being declared yesterday. Yet because Poland has to date escaped the wrath of climate change, the subject is not an issue in the discourse leading up to the parliamentary election in two weeks' time.

The extra days of summer warmth mean I've not had to switch on my heating (last September I first felt uncomfortably cold enough to do so on the 19th); my electricity consumption is down 18% compared to the same period next year. So - the warmer it gets, the less energy we consume? 

Now that we're in the dark half of the year, let me turn my attention to hours of sunlight. Plentiful between the equinoxes, it starts to plummet.

Below: annual sunshine hours, Warsaw. Note the steep falling-off that occurs between October and November - this is the 'hammer of darkness' effect that I've noted (click here on on label below right). October sees more than twice as many hours of sunshine than November; December's the worst by far, followed by January.


Comparing Warsaw to London is interesting (below) - whilst summers in Warsaw see much more sun than London (over 25% across June, July and August), the four months between November and February are sunnier in London, despite only a small difference in latitude. In terms of UV index, a less-precise measure, the two capitals are similar across the year.


It is time to gird myself psychologically for the coming darkness and cold; one hack I have developed in recent years is to ignore the time change, and not to accept that extra hour in bed 'they've' given us - it's a trap. Go to bed at the same time as before (that is, an hour earlier) and wake up an hour earlier. Don't let the time change mess with your body clock. The time change is responsible for many cases of seasonal affective disorder being worse than they could otherwise be, and for a 20% increase in heart attacks in spring when it changes the other way.

Final point from the end of Q3 2023: my food bills (excluding entertainment) for July, August and September this year totalled 3,125.53zł; a 27.7% increase on Q3 2022, when I spent 2,448.44zł. Like for like - I have all till receipts if anyone's nerdy enough to want to check.

UPDATE 13 OCTOBER 2023:

The EU’s earth-observation programme Copernicus found monthly average surface air temperatures of 16.4C, almost 1C over the 30-year average and 0.5C above the previous September record.  Berkeley Earth, an American research group, found that September was the most excessively hot of any month since 1850. This summer’s scorching weather makes it almost inevitable that 2023 will be the hottest year ever. It seems likely, too, that temperatures for 2023 will approach or exceed 1.5C above pre-industrial levels.

This time last year:

This time four years ago:
Parliamentary train at West Ealing station

This time five years ago:
Progress in Jakubowizna

This time seven years ago:
Miedzianka by Filip Springer

This time eight years ago:
Out of the third, into the fourth

This time nine years ago:
Inverted reflections

This time ten years ago:
Observations from London's WC1
and Observations from the City of London

This time 11 years ago:
Civilising Jeziorki's wetlands

This time 12 years ago:
Warsaw's Aleje Jerozolimskie

This time 14 years ago:
Melancholy autumn mood in Łazienki

This time 15 years ago:
Autumn gold, Zamienie

This time 16 years ago:
Flamenco Sketches - Seville

Tuesday, 1 November 2022

Thoughts on the occasion of Allhallowtide

Today marks the seventh anniversary of my mother's death; it is also two days after the third anniversary of my father's death. I felt that the timing of may parents' deaths was not a coincidence; the clocks go back, heralding five months of gloom - five months of short, dark, cold days - that deplete one of the will to live. Obviously, it's not the only factor, but it does constitute an important psychological factor when considering old people's health. 

It's now half past three winter time - half past four summer time. The sun will set in just over half an hour. Today, like yesterday, has been continuously foggy. Darkness encroaches. As I wrote last year, I have found a way to limit the effects of the Hammer of Darkness - ignore the time change, go to be an hour earlier (ie. at the same time you did before the clocks went back). The only time of concern is natural time, dictated by the sun, not the clock. So rather than going to bed around 23:15, I'll be going to bed around 22:15 between now and the end of March. And then - hopefully - the clocks will go forward an hour - and stay there forever. The time change has a negative and pernicious effect on our physical and mental health.

My parents visit my dreams regularly (like here, two weeks ago). My father, in particular, has taken on metaphysical importance to me, as though his life were full of mystical messages - pointers for me to learn from. I often think about the way he was, quiet, humble, getting on with it, yet curious and blessed with great powers of observation. Avoiding extremes, he sought a middle way, a balanced path. He disliked waste and wastefulness, perhaps a reaction to wartime privations (but then others who had similar experiences reacted to them by filling their lives with pointless luxuries). Here on my działka, I have in my bookcases many of his books on science and astronomy - and a few about ancient astronauts. My father was on a lifelong quest for knowledge, seeking answers to the great questions regarding the origin of life and the unfolding of the Cosmos. He was not a loquacious man, but I felt that little escaped his purview. In a spiritual sense, I feel that his wisdom continues to be imparted to me.

I am also convinced that somewhere in Ursynów lives a boy who will experience anomalous memories of pre-war Warsaw, the Uprising, post-war London and the first two decades of the 21st century (see footnote to this post). And that boy will continue my father's quest.

This time last year:
Four days of sublime Golden Autumn

This time three years ago:
Obit

This time four years ago:
Good News

This time six years ago:

Tuesday, 6 September 2022

Trees; nothing but trees, sunshine and shadows.

Such glorious weather makes the soul rejoice! Another nearly cloudless day, strong sunshine, though top temperatures well off their mid-summer high, with 22C still allowing for a jacket-free stroll in the early evening.

The light is strong, the sun and already low in the sky even though it's not yet 6pm. Below: the edge of the forest, looking towards the orchards of Jakubowizna.


Below: the reverse view to the one above - looking at the forest from the orchards. One of the XII Canonical Prospects of Jakubowizna, which we saw also in yesterday's post. Note the small pear tree between the two silver birches to the right.


Below: on the edge of a small birch grove, one I'd never been in this one before - wedged as it is between three orchards. A path went in about half way, then petered out; the undergrowth became too dense to continue. Note how heathland - low vegetation, acidic soil - suddenly gives way to birch trees, with a clearly defined boundary between the two.


Below: one for quiet contemplation; trees as conscious organisms, though not sentient, may well be acutely aware of their own existence, and feeling joy in sunshine. Go out and hug your nearest tree, and apologise to it for Mankind's brutally stupid attitude to Nature.


I woke up this morning to find there's no electricity on the działka. I went out into the street to discover what was going on - my neighbour said their house had no power either; down the end of the street - lack of power there too. So, resigned to a beautiful morning without electricity, I returned home, and took a photo of the wood next door (below), the sun still rising between the trees.


Looking in through the kitchen window, I could still not see any sign of life on the oven clock - then suddenly PAFF! it began flashing red 00:00. All was well. Another preternaturally glorious day on the działka and district.

Below: into the darkest, deepest forest, as the early evening sun descends below the treeline.


Below: rays streaming across the moss-covered floor of a clearing.


There's more than a tinge of regret at the passing of summer - tomorrow's the last day of perfect weather - clouds will gather on Thursday, rain's expected Friday, Saturday and Sunday. I just hope for some more sunny spells before the Hammer of Darkness comes crashing down. Below: maple bush in my back garden, visibly turning redder by the day. Mono no aware, as the Japanese say.



This time last year:

This time two years ago:
Jabłkowizna!

Sunday, 14 November 2021

Dealing with the Hammer of Darkness

 As long-term readers of this blog will know, around this time of year, especially those gloomy days when the sun fails to poke through the leaden clouds, I get mild symptoms of Seasonal Affective Disorder. Not debilitating by any means, but enough to be noticed, enough to get me down, robbing me of my usual joie de vivre.

At long last I have worked out a partial solution (other than spending four months of the year in the Southern Hemisphere). It is to ignore the time change at the end of October.

Before the clocks went back, I'd go to sleep around 23:00 to 23:15, and wake up between 07:00 and 07:15. 

This year, I have ignored the social hegemony of the clock and have kept to my natural, summer, rhythm - I go to sleep at the same time relative to the sun - not an hour later as the rest of the Northern Hemisphere does - and I wake at the same time relative to the sun.

This means being totally ready for bed at 21:45, and being asleep by 22:00-22:15. So I wake, naturally, at 06:00-06:15. And I must say, I'm finding this easier to achieve than I had thought just two weeks ago, when I wrote about the impending time change.

In the old days of having to get up to go to the office and of rigid TV schedules, this would have been impossible. That film I've wanted to see would have been on, starting at half past nine in the evening and ending 90 minutes later. Today of course, we can watch what we want, when we want to watch it. And do much of our work from home.

During the working week, I do my daily paces in daylight, as far as possible - any work that's needed for the following day can be done during the hours of darkness. Rather than working 9 till 5 (or even 8 till 4), I work until around 2pm, then go for a walk, return as it gets dark, and the work on until 7 or 8pm, as required.

So I am starting to become Master of My Own Time. Society proceeds at its own pace, I at mine. So I'm one hour ahead. Unless there's a Big Night Out (three so far since the time change, resulting in bedtimes past midnight), I'm sticking to this regime - and it works.

Late nights = higher blood pressure the following morning. That's clear from my regular blood pressure readings - an observation of cause and effect. That hour's time change can actually be dangerous if you just go with it.

At this latitude, the difference between day-length in midsummer and midwinter is nine hours. We oscillate between sixteen and half hours of daylight in late June and around seven and half hours in late December). Those daylight hours can be split into three and three-quarters after noon and three and three-quarters  hours in the morning. Year-round summer time would keep it that way. But the autumn time change robs us of an hour of afternoon daylight, adding it on in the morning. Frankly, being by nature an owl rather than a lark, that's not good for me. I really don't give a stuff at what time the sun rises, rarely being up to observe this phenomenon. But a late sunset - and lots of evening daylight - is what I crave.

As I wrote, the concept of midday being halfway between sunrise and sunset is naturally ordained. It is at noon the sun is at the zenith of its daily course, throwing its shortest shadow of the day, whatever the time of year. Midnight is noon's polar opposite, being halfway between sunset and sunrise. 

Historically, our northern European forebears would have slept longer in midwinter, going to bed a few candles after sunset, waking up with the sun, but with a longer interval between their first and second sleeps [see here]. And yet since electricity lit up our lives, we have shifted to a different circadian rhythm that the one set by the sun. We cherish our leisure hours - we like to play sports on summer evenings until 9pm, eat dinner al fresco on warm nights, stay up late to watch TV; our daily routines are out of sync with the solar day. The midsummer day starts early, even with the time change, the sun rises in Warsaw at quarter past four. Yet convention, society, employers, TV schedules, have determined that those daylight hours are less valuable that the evening ones.

Another tip I have is roller blinds, which I had installed on the działka earlier this year. They completely block out daylight, allowing me to sleep in way past sunrise in midsummer. Back in Jeziorki, dropping the blinds early, switching on several low-mounted, dim lights, creates a warm, cosy mood and cuts out that most depressing time of day, around dusk, when what little daylight there is ebbs away.

This is, for the Northern Hemisphere, the busiest time of year. Racing towards Xmas - get everything done, budgets achieved, new budgets drawn up - before the Xmas party season starts. Now there is no historical basis for stating that Joshua ben Joseph, a Christos of Nazareth, was born in late December. The early Christian Church took that decision in the 4th century AD, probably hitchhiking on the pagan festivals of Sol Invictus and Yule. It makes sense to celebrate the passing of the shortest day and earliest sunset, the returning Light. Working hard takes your mind off the gloom and dismalness going on outside during the run-up to the contemporary materialist feast of Xmas.

Anyway. 

It's now quarter to nine - quarter to ten in old money - and I will soon be getting ready for bed, ready to rise tomorrow, shortly after six. So far, so good. I'm coping. And at the last weekend of March, I intend to return to the summer routine - going to sleep around 23:00, and rising around 07:00. 

Unless I've morphed into a lark before then.

UPDATE 24 November: Ten days later and I'm sticking to this new routine. I'm fine with going to bed at ten and waking up around 6:15.

UPDATE October 2023: I came across this research pointing to a link between eye colour and seasonal affective disorder - people with blue eyes are less prone to it, which explains why latitude alone doesn't necessarily determine susceptibility to SAD. And this study from the British Medical Journal suggests that there's another danger with time change at the other end - heart attacks and stroke increase significantly after the clocks go forward in spring. (Again, going to bed an hour later and waking up an hour later could be an answer.) Time to stop fiddling with the clocks!

This time four years ago:

Poland's dream of a superconnector hub

This time five years ago:
The magic of superzoom

This time nine years ago:
Welcome to Lemmingrad

This time 11 years ago:
Dream highway

This time 12 years ago:
The Days are Marching

This time 14 years ago:
First snow, 2007


Monday, 1 November 2021

Four days of sublime autumn weather

All day Friday, Saturday, Sunday and today, the sun shone brightly in a sky almost totally bereft of cloud. Four days of magnificent beauty, four days to make the spirit soar unto the heavens. And with a daytime highs of over 15C, balmy weather for the time of year. 

SATURDAY 30 OCTOBER

Time for a quick walk before sunset. Below: Machcin II, looking south.




SUNDAY 31 OCTOBER

The clocks having gone back, I feel I must make the Most of that extra hour in the morning, and I was rewarded for setting ofp before 8am. The richness of the colours with the low morning sun cloaks the landscape in splendour.


Below: the path ahead leads me back to Jakubowizna; the path the right to Adamów Rososki.


Below: the path to the right leads to Adamów Rososki, the path to the left to Grabina


Below: eastern edge of the forest stretching east from Jakubowizna.


Below: west of Adamów Rososki


Below: morning sun on the tops of the birches, Jakubowizna


Below: looking along the road from Jakubowizna towards Grobice



Below: the road through the forest, between Machcin II and Jakubowizna.


Below: a few hundred metres past my działka, through the wood and into the orchards.


Below: field between the barns, off ul. Słoneczna, looking east.


Below: with long lens looking along ul. Słoneczna (lit. 'sunny street')/


Below: ul. Wspólna ('common street') in Chynów, approaching the border with Jakubowizna.



MONDAY 1 NOVEMBER

Below: Canonical Jakubowizna - one of the 'flashback' views that drew me here. 


Below: the road south. Ulica Kolejowa (lit' 'railway street'), newly asphalted. Not all the way though, the station approach is still pot-holed and liable to flooding.


Below: ulica Spokojna (lit. 'peaceful street' - and such it is) runs between Chynów and Piekut, through a forest. At this time of year, no longer plagued by midges.


Below: ul. Spokojna as it approaches the railway crossing, halfway between Chynów and Krężel stations.

Below: approaching the village of  Węszełówka, south of the village of Widok. The light is such that Photoshop cannot enhance a thing. Out of the box, with polarising filter.

Below: a strong mid-century U.S.A vibe here, under an azure sky.


Below: approaching Widok from the south


Below: Is this North Dakota? Are we in Minnesota? No. This is Widok, south of Jakubowizna. And in the picture, the village shop, famed locally for its wild-boar kiełbasa.


Below: what made Grójeckie famous; most of the apples have been safely gathered in.


Today, the sun set at a few minutes past four; waiting, waiting for the hammer of darkness to come crashing down. I am thankful for these days. Intense gratitude.

This time two years ago:
Obit

This time three years ago:
Good News

This time five years ago: