Ice, sun and moon

What a gorgeous day! The sky is crystalline blue, entirely cloud-free. Time to get office work done quickly and move on out! After a night when temperatures fell to below -9°C, it took a while for the sun to get a positive reading on the thermometer. I set off just after 2pm. 

It was this kind of a day. In summer – a heatwave. Today, parka, scarf, woollen hat, army boots. Below: the DK50 (national highway 50) in Nowe Grobice, by the scrapyard. Note the solar panel and wind turbine, which between them must generate the power to illuminate the pedestrian crossing here night and day.

Below: my aim today is to return to the wetlands between Sułkowice and Ławki to see them in their icy glory. I had been there just three weeks ago, but was curious to see them in today's conditions. I was not disappointed.

Below: the waterlogged land has frozen, but I must tread lightly and avoid open water even if at first sight the ice looks solid – it isn't. Still needs a further two or three nights at -8°C or below to even attempt walking on the ponds between the tufts of grass and reed. But flowing water takes much longer to freeze over.

Below: beavers have dammed this stretch of the river, though water is pouring around the side.

Left: flying pigeons in Sułkowice. I could see the flock wheeling around above the house; they'd suddenly flash white against the blue sky as the sun caught the undersides of their wings. Sadly, they were coming in to land; each loop they circled was at a lower altitude. Had I passed a little earlier, I'd have caught them against the moon (97% full).

Below: the moon between latticework of the wireless relay tower that stands on the DK50 in Nowe Grobice.

Below: the sun setting between the loco and carriages of the Radomianka limited-stop service to Radom as it approaches Chynów. 

Below: the sun descends behind a medium-tension electricity pylon, on the other side of the railway line, between Chynów and Sułkowice stations.

This time last year:
Misty day in Dobieszyn

This time two years ago:
On-spectrum asks

This time three years ago:
Ego, Consciousness and the Ladder of Authority

This time four years ago:
Trains and snowy days

This time five years ago:
"I wake up at five and queue for bread and soup"

This time six years ago:
Getting over this year's flu

This time seven years ago:
War and the absence of war

This time nine years ago:
Sensitivity to spiritual evolution

This time ten years ago:
75th anniversary of Stalin's deportations of Poles

This time 11 years ago:
Peak Car (in western Europe at least)

This time 12 years ago:
Pavement for Karczunkowska NOW!
[To this day, the road is worthy of a provincial Russian village]

This time 14 years ago:
Until the Vistula freezes over 

This time 14 years ago:
Of sunshine, birdsong and wet socks

This time 15 years ago:
Confusion on the rails

This time 16 years ago:
Road to Kraków

This time 17 years ago:
Happy birthday, Dziadzio Tadeusz

The XII Canonical Prospects of Jakubowizna in Winter (Without Snow)

It will be a long time before the XII Canonical Prospects of Jakubowizna are finally agreed upon, and their order. No doubt there will be schisms along the way; which Prospects make the cut and which are relegated to the Apocrypha or judged to be Gnostic Prospects. Aesthetes and scholars will debate. Slowly though, the Canon will take shape; across the year's four seasons, across mornings, middays, afternoons, evenings and night. Each canonical image must, however, be linked to unalloyed, genuine qualia moments that resonate deeply with my soul, stirring unbidden memories.

Part I: The Western Canon

Below: takes me back to my strongest past-life memories. Road running alongside the railway track between Chynów and Sułkowice.

Below: one of my most favourite experiences is that of walking towards the sun, into the wind. The sun and wind, in my face. And with an interesting cloud formation that casts my mind back. 

Below: general view of the north-west corner of Jakubowizna, on leaving the station.

Below: up the lane from the station towards my działka. The familiar way. The way home.

Below: looking north from the lane into the side road that goes off towards Grobice; birches, pines, houses old and new.

Part II: The Eastern Canon

Left: looking north towards Grobice down the path from Jakubowizna, flanked on either side by orchards – apples, pears and cherries. The local council wanted to widen this path and asphalt it, but landowners wouldn't sell enough land alongside the path needed to allow for the prescribed width. And so grass triumphs, and I must say, I'm rather glad. Lack of asphalt means I live on what's effectively a no-through road to all vehicles except tractors and mud-pluggers.

Below: Foreclosed. "Are you men from the bank?" Deserted cottage on the path from Jakubowizna to Grobice. Moon rising. Jet overhead.

Below: the row of silver birches at the forest's edge. Darkness brings foreboding as one approaches, but in broad daylight an uplifting scene. 

Below: from Grobice the path rises towards Grabina. Dry. The soil is dry for the time of year. It's below freezing overnight, but no snow; no snow cover in winter presages drought in spring.

Below: "When you come to a fork in the road, take it." (– Y. Berra). Left to Grabina, right to Adamów Rososki. 

Below: the path from Adamów Rososki to Machcin II. The debate is whether this view or the reverse view (from the end of this path) makes the grade as 'canonical'.

Below: the forest is much less dense than it was before the last government's state forestry service, Lasy Państwowe, felled as many trees as possible ahead of the election. Still, a beautifully wistful scene, any time of year.

Nearly home – from here, about ten minutes to my kitchen; on with the kettle for a hot drink and then make me some food. 

Which prospects will make the Canon?

This time six years ago:
Fairness, simplicity, taxation and a sustainable society

This time seven years ago:
Polish beer cans in the UK: new shit has come to light

This time nine years ago:
Lent, a time to cleanse and reflect

This time 11 years ago:
It was 50 years ago today... Beatles arrive in New York

This time 13 years ago:
Adventures in the Screen Trade – the truth about Hollywood

This time 14 years ago:
The sad end of Andrzej J.

This time 17 years ago:
Today's dose of wintery gorgeousness

This time 11 years ago:
First intimations of spring

Cold and windy along the Vistula

In town for a meeting and to collect my latest spectacles from the opticians, an a time to walk along the Vistula embankment.  The wind is blowing, it feels much colder than the +2°C on the thermometer. I walk three kilometres, and pass no more than a handful of cyclists and dog-walkers. The pavilions along the boulevard are mostly closed, out of season. But come back in three months' time and the crowds will start to return.

In the near distance, the new footbridge/cycleway (opened March 2024). As yet, officially without a name, it's unofficially known as the kładka – the simplest form of bridge, something merely kładzione (placed) across a river – the word can also mean 'footbridge'. 

Below: a display of four seasons of the Vistula, with neon birds.

Below: looking up towards Warsaw's Old Town from the riverside.

Below: traffic coming down the escarpment from the New Town.

Below: Most Gdański, the Gdański bridge – carrying three modes of transport across the river; road, railway and tramway. Neon says 'Lovely to see you'.

Below: the eastbound tram stop on the Vistula's west bank. 

Below: to Westfield Arkadia for my glasses. Two strangely named streets between the shopping centre and W-wa Gdańska station: 'Remember About Gardens Street' (below). Who should remember about gardens? Why should they remember about gardens?

Below: Remember About Gardens Street runs into ulica Kłopot – literally, 'bother street', 'nuisance street', 'trouble street'. Perhaps the most bizarre two street names in Warsaw. Double-decker train passing through.

This time last year:
A to Z of my online world, ten years on

This time two years ago:
Intensity of Consciousness

This time three years ago:
I have measured out my life in coffee spoons

This time nine years ago:
Make do and mend

This time 11 years ago:
The A-Z of my online world

This time 13 years ago:
Life and Death in the Shadow of the El – A short story, part I

This time 14 years ago:
Transwersalka in midwinter

This time 15 years ago:
Work starts on the S79/S2 (completed autumn 2013)

This time 17 years ago:
Crazy customised Skoda

Month with new kitten

It was a month ago, on 5 January, when I was heading home to the działka from Chynów station; looking at my phone, I saw I could do with some more paces, so I decided to return the long way, right through Jakubowizna along the main street to the end, then turn into the forest and back that way. It was about five pm, night had fallen; it was cold (-4°C). As I walked on the paved side of the village street, I suddenly became aware of a small animal darting through the shadows and around my feet. I stopped. It was a kitten. "Probably got out through a gap in a fence," I thought. So, abandoning plans to carry on through to the forest, I walked up and down the street seeing if the kitten would find its home. It didn't. I'd stop at each house, at each farm, and see if it would dive under a gate. Sometimes it would, only to reemerge and continue to follow me. It followed me back, past the station, past all the houses, past the point of no return.

In the end, I decided to pick it up and take it home. I took a photo (below, on phone, hence poor quality) and posted it on the local Facebook page, where two people immediately re-posted it. The next day (Trzech Króli, Three Kings) was a public holiday, so shops were shut – no chance to buy pet food. No problem; tuna, smoked salmon, (mild) chorizo and natural yogurt went down a treat. 

The next day I went into Chynów to buy a few days' supply of kitten food (2-12 months) and some cat litter, and I returned via Jakubowizna to check whether anyone had put up a 'lost kitten' notice anywhere. They hadn't; I checked back each subsequent day, but no. No one has lost a kitten. Maybe someone with a surplus kitten drove out to the countryside to drop it off outside a farm that might take it in? I often wonder what the first months of her life looked like; she is evidently house-trained and was brought up around humans.

So – the kitten is a keeper then? First think – a name. Easy. As Moni's late cat Jowisz was named after a planet, this one will be named after one of the two planets in conjunction with the moon on the night I found it – Saturn or Venus. And as it's a female, it has to be Venus (Polish Wenus, diminutive, Wenusia, abbreviated to 'Nusia).

We are different species. I am Homo sapiens, Wenusia is Felis catus (as defined by H. sapiens). And yet we are both alive and conscious. There is the bond.

Below: kittens grow up quickly. Photo taken this morning. 

I ponder on the quality of the telepathic communication between us; even if only rudimentary, can it evolve over time to become more effective? In the mornings, she will wake me early if I need an early start, and wait until later if I can sleep in. 

After a month: cat food bill is 116.19 złotys, around £21. Will be less next month as I've quite a bit  of stock left over.

Many thanks to Moni for passing on the late Jovis's cat tower (scratching post and bed combined) and to Roman for the waterfall/fountain drinking bowl.

This time last year:
Another dream of the future

This time ten years ago:
Białystok fails to impress

This time 11 years ago:
Sadness at the death of Tadeusz Mosz

This time 12 years ago:
Interpreting vs. translating vs. explaining

This time 13 years ago:
More than just an Iluzjon

This time 14 years ago:
Oldschool photochallenge

This time 15 years ago:
Warsaw's wonderful nooks and crannies

This time 17 years ago:
Viaduct to the airport at ul. Poleczki almost ready

Up with the weather! Fine, frosty morn

Sunday night, family calls – Zooming with my brother, Skyping with my daughter – and Wenusia the kitten wants outta the house. As usual, to do her business outside before bedtime. But on this occasion, she did not return... Never did this before... I waited up as long as could, but with Monday morning being the start of the working week – reluctantly in the end, I had to go to bed, having drunk a second large tea to ensure that I'd be waking up all through the night. I moved my pillow to the other end of my bed so I could see the kitchen window, and having left the roller blinds open and a lit table lamp on the windowsill, I dropped off to sleep. 

I dreamt about my lost cat being in London and befriending a small dog, then woke up at 1:30. Checked outside – no sign of. Temperature was -4.8°C. Woke again at 3am, then again at 4:30, checking each time. Calling out into the darkness. Nothing. Finally woke and got out of bed at 7am, just before sunrise, again checking for Wenusia, again nothing, so I got dressed, made my coffee, had a light breakfast, and got ready to venture out into the frost to look for my missing kitten. I laced up my stout winter boots, put on my warm parka, hat and scarf, ready to brave the elements, opened the door – and who should stroll in nonchalantly as though nothing had ever happened but Wenusia.

Seize the day! I thought. So I filled her bowl with cat food and set off with camera to make the most of the opportunity. An hour before the Monday office Zoom call, time for a lap around the manor to photograph a most splendid morning that, had it not been for Wenusia's night out, I would have missed to routine.

So then we are having. The sun now rises half an hour after the latest sunrise (07:43 between 27 Dec and 3 Jan). The ground is covered with yesterday evening's snow, turned crispy by the overnight frost.

Below: the sun rises over the forest between Jakubowizna and Adamów Rososki. Fallow fields of tansy and goldenrod touched by frost. It is absolutely beautiful outside! 

Below: rows of apple trees between Jakubowizna and Grobice. Time for some gratitude!

Below: abandoned farm buildings, Nowe Grobice. Or 1930s Kentucky.

Below: looking east from Nowe Grobice. All photos in this session taken with my Nikkor 35mm f/1.8 lens, which gives a nice approximation of the field of view of the human eye. To zoom in, walk forward. To zoom out, walk back.

Below: frost-covered tansy (Tanacetum vulgare, in Polish wrotycz). Bright yellow when in bloom.

Below: more fallow fields between Jakubowizna and Nowe Grobice.

Below: just around the corner from Jakubowizna, a nicely-kept back garden in Nowe Grobice.

Below: back in Jakubowizna and in good time for our Monday-morning office call. A useful 4,000 paces in just over half an hour.

Below: safe and sound, warm and dry, fed and watered, cared for and loved. Could a kitten wish for more?

This time last year:
To Krężel via Wygodne

This time three years ago:
Another canonical dream fits the picture

This time five years ago:
Knowing what 'good' looks like

This six years ago:
Sewer system extended up Trombity

This time seven years ago:
What Happened at the Railway Inn (Part II)

This time ten years ago:
Demand and inequality in the global economy

This time 11 years ago:
Sorry, takie mamy koleje

This time 12 years ago:
Visit to Warsaw's Jewish Cemetery

This time 13 years ago:
Under Rondo Dmowskiego 

This time 14 years ago:
My most favourite bridge

This time 15 years ago:
Street lighting under the snow

This time 16 years ago:
Ul. Poloneza - archival video before the S2 was built

This time 17 years ago:
Aerial juxtaposition over Jeziorki

Up and down with the weather part II

Not the weather I'd been given to expect from the forecast on my phone. Within minutes of my setting off on my walk, a dark cloud rolled in swiftly from the north-west, bringing with it an immense flurry of wet snow. The temperature was about +1°C, though windchill and damp made it feel much colder. Below: one of the XII Canonical Prospects of Jakubowizna & District in blizzard conditions.

Within minutes, however, the blizzard had blown itself out. By the time I'm through the woods, out on the other side by Machcin II, the cloud has scudded by, having relieved itself of mountains of snow.

It turns out quite nice again. Below: on the path that follows the border between Jakubowizna (on the right) and Gaj Żelechowski (on the left). Note the hazel catkins in full bloom (left), which they do in Poland from early February to early April.

By the time I get to ulica Kolejowa, the sun is shining brightly, illuminating the signal posts and pylons.

But before long, another dark cloud rushed in from the north-west, bringing more snow; large, wet flakes covering my coat. A mere 1,200 paces from home, I am worrying about the snow building up around my camera.

I spin round to catch the southbound Żeromski InterCity express as it rushes through towards Chynów station on its way to Kraków from Olsztyn via Warsaw.

I am cold, wet, hungry, tired – but not miserable; the lane home and 600 paces left.

Home again. Kettle on, feed the kitten, upload photos.

It would turn out to be an eventful night, but that's for the next post...

This time six years ago:
Justify the buy – Nikkor 10-20mm zoom lens

This time 12 years ago:
The Big Melt

This time 15 years ago:
Waiting for the meltdown

This time 17 years ago:
Warsaw's inadequate airport

Cold, gloomy start to February

The last days of January brought the faintest intimations of the onset of spring; I could sniff it in the wind, I could feel it on my face and in my bones. But then along comes February, and hopes for an early spring dissolve. The weather forecast for the coming days is uniformly grim. Overcast skies, light frost at night, temperatures hovering above zero during the day; little hope of the seeing more than fleeting glimpses of the sun. Should it snow, it will be a light fall and melt quickly as daytime highs will be between 3°C and 4°C. But at least it's not raining (drizzle doesn't keep me indoors), so my 12,000 paces need doing. To the forest between Chynów and Krężel (below).

Below: despite my many expeditions through this forest, I have never come across this działka before; run-down but not abandoned – a long way from the nearest asphalted road. Short grass suggests someone's taking care of the place.

Below: in the forest between Chynów and Krężel, views of passing trains; here's a local service on its way to Warsaw (long exposure to blur the train)...

Below: the Kolberg InterCity train on its way to Olsztyn from Kraków; photo taken from deeper in the forest, this time using a short shutter speed to freeze the motion.

Below: looking north towards Chynów along ulica Kolejowa ('railway street') as the InterCity Sienkiewicz express from Olsztyn to Kraków charges through on the 'up' track, having just overtaken the local service (note one of the lower lights is red, to show its working the wrong way). I consider the subjective conscious experience of a passenger on board, looking out onto a generic landscape of orchards and forests flashing by, rather as I do when I'm travelling through regions of which I know not.

Below: the overtaken local service, moving more sedately as it accelerates away from Chynów station shortly before starting to brake as it approaches Krężel station.

Below: long telephoto shot of ul. Kolejowa, showing the dip in the road (from which I took the above photo).

As of today, sunset is exactly one hour later than the year's earliest sunset (which is 15:24 in Chynów between 8 and 16 December).

This time last year:
In the run-up to Lent
(Early last year, not until 6 March this year.)

This time two years ago:
Born between nuclear disasters

This time four years ago:
Yo-yo winter

This time six years ago:

Plank time!

This time seven years ago:
What happened at the Railway Hotel?

This time eight years ago:
How to annoy the passengers

This time nine years ago:
Zloty symbol - your suggestions 

This time ten years ago:
The future of Warsaw's public transport
[interesting to see how much of that has come true!]

This time ten years ago: 

Snowdrifts and trains in winter

This time 13 years ago:

Back to the blackboard

(on the superiority of Polish schools to British ones)

This time 15 years ago:

Greed, fear, fight-and-flight - and the weather

This time 16 years ago:

Where the new expressways will meet

This time 17 years ago:

Early spring in London