Boadicea's Chariot

When the fitter said he couldn’t turn off the stop-cock I decided to go for a walk. Better be out, I thought, if there’s going to be a flood.

I left the house after three o’clock and by the time I’d done my deliveries and postings I decided to walk back the long way, through the Churchyard and park. The light was like golden-syrup, the sun low in the sky and here just throwing light onto the old yew tree, over the Churchyard wall. It was so very peaceful and still. In the air a slight scent of woodsmoke.

This is the third day of frost which hasn’t lifted all day, and here it can be seen lying on the wall and the ground where the sun hasn’t reached it. The ice crystals are so large it almost looks like a smattering of sow.

Across the park the light had gone off most of the foreground, but was still lighting the trees ahead, changing even as I walked towards it.

Close up the charred hollow tree looks almost as if it has a lamp inside it, emitting a warm glow.

Here the light is fading as I leave the park and the plane trails linger in the stillness.

In the tree tops the returning rooks have a loud conversation about their nest building plans.

I arrived home just as the chap was leaving. He still hadn’t managed to turn off the stop-cock. That will be tomorrow’s task.

And I shall be at work.