The North Wind Doth Blow

 

The north wind doth blow,
And we shall have snow,
And what will the robin do then,
poor thing?
He’ll sit in a barn,
And keep himself warm,
And hide his head under his wing,
poor thing!

The north wind doth blow,
And we shall have snow,
And what will the bee do then,
poor thing?
In his hive he will stay,
Till the cold’s passed away,
And then he’ll come out in the spring,
poor thing!

The north wind doth blow,
And we shall have snow,
And what will the dormouse do then,
poor thing?
Rolled up in a ball,
In his nest snug and small,
He’ll sleep til warm weather comes in,
poor thing!

~Mother Goose~ Blown away! Flood-hit Britain was battered by 100mph 'Wild Wednesday' severe storms and rising water levels, with no prospect of an end to the misery in sight. It caused travel chaos across road and rail networks as motorways were flooded, major road bridges closed and rail lines offering limited - if any - services, stranding travellers that brought the country to a standstill. The wind amplified by down draft was literally blowing people off their feet.  
The Thames rose to its highest level in more than 60 years and coastal areas were battered again by large waves. The Thames barrier was closed to protect communities to the West of the capital. The Met Office had issued a red weather warning - the most severe level of threat - for ‘exceptionally strong winds’ of up to 100mph. The rare alert was in place for western parts of Wales and the north-western parts of England. 

We have been checking the weather forecasts in Aberystwyth ever since our ‘hometown’ was battered by the storms. We wanted to see for ourselves the devastation and try and support the community. But we wanted to make sure that it was safe to do so. After about a month, we managed to make the trip when there was a gap in the clouds and the sun shone. It was 4C in the car when we left Coventry.  It was raining and there were lots of surface water on the road.

Road-works were also popping up everywhere. Frost on top of the hills were glistening in the sun as we drove through the majestic Cambrian Mountains. The fields around Welshpool was flooded and if there was another heavy downpour, I don’t want to know where the water was going to go because the ground was thoroughly saturated. Our first stop was Bwlch Nanty-yr-Arian which meant mountain pass of the silver stream and was shocked to see the devastation. What happened? We were saddened to see so many trees felled. Look at those poor bare mountains.

It was a shock to the system to see the size of the area which have been cleared because of the outbreak of Phytophtora ramorum. This was a fungus-like pathogen killed many of the trees that it infected.by the disease known as ‘sudden oak death’. Larch trees were felled in an effort to slow the spread of the disease to other areas and other tree species. In contrast to the name, the oak trees were so far resistant to the bug. Natural Resources Wales aimed to replace them with 130k oak and other native species, replicating the ancient oak woods which once covered most of Wales. It will be a good few years for the area to get back to its original state.

After using the facilities, we had a little picnic in the car overlooking the Rheidol Valley. The views were absolutely breathtaking. We noticed a lot of work had been carried out around the visitor centre. Apart from the scenic walks, world class mountain biking facilities and breathtaking lakeside views, an adventure play area and animal puzzle trail was also added. We then made ourselves at home in front of the bird-feeder and rattling hundreds of photographs. There was a large flock of chaffinches and house sparrows. Due to the lack of trees, they were making use of the children’s playground to perch.

Among the flock, we spotted a Robin, Siskin, Nuthatch, Goldfinches, Marsh, Great and Blue Tits taking turns to feed. Unfortunately, they were being chased away by the aggressive Chaffinches. I also purchased a Welsh love-spoon to add to my collection. Originally, these spoons were hand carved by young men and offered to the girls they loved as a token of affection. Today, as well as being a gift of affection, they were a purchased as momento from a visit to Wales.

Then it was time to made our way down to the lake, dodging the machineries littered along the route. Above us, Red Kites were careless soaring in an easy gliding flight with their five  foot wingspan and long, deeply forked tail.  More and more started gathering, circling tantalisingly above us and since the trees were no longer there, we could see them more clearly. Some were even perched on whatever tree stumps that were left. More people were making their way down towards the feeding area, waiting patiently for the warden to wheel in the barrow of meat. The crows too were beginning to gather. All waiting in anticipation.

Red Kite sauntering up the valley
like a London VIP guest-of-honouring
at a country fete, the buzzard
a drab country cousin, the larks
and wheatears scuttling aside and lying low,
myself blatantly starstruck.

All elegance and perfection of winged line,
circling and cruising on,
it patronises the predictable forest,
the stream, the old-fashioned farm,
the sheep-untidy fields. Naturally
superior, self-consciously serene.

Plumage subtle but dominant,
the red-brown coat caught at an angle
in a snapshot of sunshine, offset
by a classic pattern of black and white.
The hooked curve of wingtips
matching the ruthless beak.

The black fighter planes that use the valley
for practice, imitating war
as they scream and blare overhead
in sudden blasts and invasions
hold none of the terror and easy power
of this silent forked intruder.

Squinting into the sun's glare
as the kite shoulders down over the hill,
and thinking of the dead sheep up there
that disappear entirely within days,
I linger mesmerised, like a
shadowed vole or a mountain hare.

~Irene Earis ~

And then the warden arrived and started scattering the carcasses. And hell broke loose when the Kites began plummeting and swooping down grabbing pieces of meat from the ground with their talons. It was amazing to see hundreds of them diving for the food and yet they never collided into each other, while competing with breath-taking feats of aerial display. Some were trying to feed on the wings  but as usual the meat laden birds in the air were being flushed and mugged. It was crazy because there were so much food on the ground and yet they preferred seizing food from one another.

I particularly liked to watch them swooping over the lake, picking up any pieces that was accidently dropped into the water. There were hundreds in the air and hundreds swooping over the lake and the feeding area. You just don’t know where to point the camera. Their mewing cries echoed around us. A kite’s territory depended upon the abundance of food. Where food was plentiful, a large number of them could be found living together. And I’m glad that these magnificent birds have made this beautiful Welsh landscape their home.

Then we made our way to Aberystwyth. Scenes of a battered promenade greeted us. Work were still being carried out, repairing the sea defences. Most of the windows and doors were boarded up and large mounds of shingles were scattered everywhere. We managed to find a parking space near Constitution Hill from where many of the amazing photographs of the explosive force of high waves battering the sea-front were photographed. The waves crashing on to the promenade remained one of the images of the great storm of 2014. We came across a mess of gritty sand, broken pavements, mangled railings, crooked information boards and torn flags which still fluttered. Life continued. Shops were open, tourists gawked and took photographs, walkers and joggers pounded the pavements and finally I managed to ‘Kick the bar’.

We walked along the picture-postcard Victorian sea-front, one of the worst to be pummelled by the massive waves during the devastating  storms. Long stretches of the familiar white railings were gone. Impressively the sprouting spring bulbs in huge planters hung bravely on by the roots, their pale green leaf shoots exposed. The handsome dragon seats still remained firmly anchored in place. Further towards the pier, the railings of the paddling pool had disappeared, and beach sand extended right across the road.

Then we reached the area which was fenced off. The grade II-listed seafront shelter which was the symbol of the resilience of the town had been removed. The 1920s landmark was badly damaged and was being dismantled for repair. The shelter partly fell into a hole after its foundations were washed away as massive waves pounded the seafront. It had been used by couples, rowdy students, sodden holidaymakers and the homeless since it was built. I remembered the number of times sitting here enjoying an ice-cream watching the sun going down. I’m glad that Cadw, the body which looked after Wales' historic monuments for the Welsh government, had told Ceredigion council that it wanted the shelter to be repaired and replaced in its current position.

Near the marina, the waves were beginning to build, spewing foam pounding the rocks. We finished the coffee and biscuits. We also fed the noisy gulls and cooing pigeons while keeping an eye on a dancing Pied wagtail and a cocky rock pipit. Giant waves were crashing onto the rocks as the winds got stronger. We were wondering where were the surfers. But I rather them stay safe then risk their lives. I took photographs of the River Ystwyth and River Rheidol as they converge into Cardigan Bay. I wanted to check out the starling murmuration but it was drizzling and we still have a three hour drive home.

We drove through the buzzing high street trying to dodge the cars parked haphazardly along the road. We made a pit stop at Morissons to purchase a few packs of Welsh cakes. We later diverted and took the scenic route through the shingle-strewn Borth. We hoped to see the ancient 5k year old bronze age forest that had been unearthed by the storms. Unfortunately, the tide was high and a few brave surfers were trying their luck. It was freezing and very windy. We drove through the tiny village which was still recovering from the storms. Then it was straight onto the A44 and back safely to the Midlands.

On Sunday, CC and I made a very expensive train trip to London to have lunch with a good friend of ours, DCL. We made this plan ages ago and as usual it was difficult to find an agreeable date. I was early at the train station and spent the time people watching. CC came packed with her luggage as she will be flying back to Canada the next day. We met SJ and her sister who were on their way to the opposite direction, to Birmingham. The train arrived on time and it was surprisingly empty. As we rode through the countryside, we saw pockets of flooding here and there. It would take months before things get back to normal.

*

We arrived in London in one piece and made our way to the Indian restaurant, Chutney. It looked very ordinary outside and was quite small, about 20 seats at a glance. But then when I wanted to freshen up, I found that downstairs, it had 2 floors of basement seating!!! Started in 1987, the restaurant specialised in South and North India vegetarian food. It was buzzing with people of different nationalities. DCL was going to be late because she was stuck in the Tube. *

By this time, we were already very hungry that we decided to started with the starters. First, I chose a very refreshing hot ginger and mint drink which really warmed up the cockles.  We started with an assortment of papadums and crispy snacks all served with homemade pickles and spicy chutneys. Yum…yum. DCL arrived just as we were finishing and while she attacked the starters, I queued for the fried spicy potato cubes with muttar panir, saag bhajee, a bit of thoran and brinjal bhajee. We’d a wonderful time checking out each others plates. There was plenty of laughter and sisterhood. My second trip ended with a plate of bombay aloo, tarka dhal and wiped clean with plain paratha. I forgo the rich desserts and had some fresh fruit instead.*

After about 2 hours of good food and company, we made a slow waddle towards the train station. I still have an hour to kill that we decided to have coffee at Cafe Nero to continue our chinwag. It was so relaxing. After hugs and promises to do this more often, I made my way to catch the 4 pm train back to Coventry. I was the only one in the carriage and was trying hard not to fall asleep. Thankfully, the views of the breath-taking sunset kept me busy. *

Babe and I also made a late afternoon trip to our favourite playground. A hovering kestrel over the reed-beds greeted us. By the time, Babe parked the car and took out the cameras, it had flown away. At the fishermen’s car-park, we met a few regulars with their eyes trained on something under the logs. They said it was a wood-mouse but when we managed to take a few shots, we found out that it was a vole. A buzzard flew right above us scattering the birds on the feeding table.

The main path was flooded again and we spent the time feeding the robins. In fact, they stalked us as we were walking towards the woods, along Goose pool. We were hoping to see the Gold-crests but they were no where to be seen. A large flock of Long Tailed tits were moving in rapid surges through the trees in restless waves. They were just too fast to be photographed. All we could hear were their high-pitched excited twittering. A Reed bunting flew in to check out the party.

wind song

sheet music

flutters

from the stand …

a reed bunting

~Claire Everett and Amy Claire Rose (2011)~

At work, I attended a brief introduction to a tool used by the Acquisition teams. Talis Aspire was a cloud-based, reading-list application that enabled universities to transform resource discovery and access for students and academicians 24/7. Lecturers with subjects and acquisition librarians were able to create reading lists using a simple drag and drop tools. It was hoped that library linking, acquisitions alerting and resource location functions will make it easier for students to connect with the library and find what they want. We highlighted a few setbacks such as investigating a way to move a number of bookmarks to a list in one go, rather than having to add them individually. Lecturers, too, shouldn’t be allowed to add or delete items from reading lists whilst the list was being reviewed. The library could easily end up buying things that were no longer required or missing essential items if we don’t have control over it.

I was volunteered by my manager to attend a Risk assessment workshop conducted by St John’s Ambulance and the British Safety Council awards. Risk assessment is balancing the degree of risk against the cost of control measures ie the higher the risk, the greater the effort required to combat it.  It meant that knowledge of the risks faced by the organisation and a measure of the extend of these risks was needed. It was a long day for all of us to absorb everything. And we’d to prepare a risk assessment task in order to get a certificate. I’m still thinking whether I want to put myself forward as a risk assessor.

We were surprised to see a Peacock butterfly in the bedroom. It was over wintering in the house and must have woken up by the warmth of the central heating. We followed it fluttering happily in the house. We don’t want to put it out because it was raining and there were no flowers for it to feed from. After a few hours, it settled down to sleep at the corner of the bedroom which happened to be the coolest part of the room. Fortunately, the heating in the bedroom wasn’t working. During the winter, butterflies need to stay cold in order to hibernate successfully. Warm snaps may wake them up and this would be fatal. We checked again and it had disappeared elsewhere. We hoped that it had finally found a safer place to sleep.

The butterfly counts not months but moments, and has time enough.

~Rabindranath Tagore~

*I didn’t take any photographs when I was in London. As usual. when I was away, Babe took these photographs of my feathered friends having a party at the bird-feeder.