Sunday morning brought our first taste of cold, I peered out of the window at 0700 and lo! The world was white,
I walked the dog towards the bottom of the locks, I could hear the by-wash splashing but it was a while before the gates loomed out of the mist.
By the time the compulsory Sunday morning fry-up had been consumed the mist had cleared and the sun was well up so we set off northwards towards Audlem. As usual the by-washes were giving it some.
The crane reminded me of that wonderful song by Flanders and Swann that lamented the closure of so many cross country rail lines under the dead hand of that arch villain Beeching, one verse ran:
The sleepers sleep at Audlem and Ambergate.
No passenger waits on Chittening platform or Cheslyn Hay.
No one departs, no one arrives
From Selby to Goole, St. Erth to St. Ives.
They've all passed put of our lives,
On the slow train, on the slow train.
If anyone wants to hear the full song it's on You Tube. Brings a tear to my rheumy old eye.
Having nothing better to do I'm mucking about on the laptop, hence this post and the verse from "The Slow Train".
Watch this space............