![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Musings on a cold morning
Friday, November 18th, 2005 11:37 amLast night was the third really frosty night in a row; rather parky indeed (at least by UK standards). Up until now autumn has been very mild; exceptionally mild in fact. The first three weeks or so were a true Indian Summer. The upshot was that the trees kept their leaves and in some areas there were reports of spring plants blossoming. I don’t think it quite went that far in Whetstone, unless you count the mildew of the stonework around the outside drain.
But no more.
Last night was, as I say, the third heavy frost in a row, and this morning at the tube station it was showering leaves from the trees. They are all still green, but they are falling as if the trees have suddenly decided that they have 24 hours to ditch them like last season’s fashions – which in a way they are, I guess. On the platform there is a carpet of fresh, green leaves quite unlike the yellowing dead leaves you expect this time of year. These all look very green and very much alive. Indeed some of them have that early summer freshness about them. I don’t think I’ve ever seen the like before.
Of course, because it is chilly, the office picked today for the six-monthly practice fire evacuation. We nipped out to the new Costa Coffee just around the corner in Cardinal Place. It was already full – we weren’t the first to have the idea, but we were the only ones hardy enough to sit outside.
Steve, my immediate line manager was muttering about his trip in to work this morning, delayed by a fire near the track somewhere – it makes a change from the wrong type of snow, too many leaves or any of the other bizarre excuses we are given for the late running of trains this time of year. The other point that cropped up was the fine distinction between helpful and annoying announcements at railway stations. The ubiquitous ‘keep your luggage with you or we will blow it up’ being repeated at two minute intervals is the prime example of annoying and unhelpful announcements. It did occur to me though, that I have a knackered old suitcase that I have no idea how to dispose of. I could leave it at a railway station and have the police blast it. I could fill it with confetti and antilitter leaflets. Or if I could be sure that the wind is in the right direction, stuff it with pr0n, so that it all showers down over the Catholic Cathedral at lunchtime, leaving the nuns and cardinals bothered and bewildered.
But no more.
Last night was, as I say, the third heavy frost in a row, and this morning at the tube station it was showering leaves from the trees. They are all still green, but they are falling as if the trees have suddenly decided that they have 24 hours to ditch them like last season’s fashions – which in a way they are, I guess. On the platform there is a carpet of fresh, green leaves quite unlike the yellowing dead leaves you expect this time of year. These all look very green and very much alive. Indeed some of them have that early summer freshness about them. I don’t think I’ve ever seen the like before.
Of course, because it is chilly, the office picked today for the six-monthly practice fire evacuation. We nipped out to the new Costa Coffee just around the corner in Cardinal Place. It was already full – we weren’t the first to have the idea, but we were the only ones hardy enough to sit outside.
Steve, my immediate line manager was muttering about his trip in to work this morning, delayed by a fire near the track somewhere – it makes a change from the wrong type of snow, too many leaves or any of the other bizarre excuses we are given for the late running of trains this time of year. The other point that cropped up was the fine distinction between helpful and annoying announcements at railway stations. The ubiquitous ‘keep your luggage with you or we will blow it up’ being repeated at two minute intervals is the prime example of annoying and unhelpful announcements. It did occur to me though, that I have a knackered old suitcase that I have no idea how to dispose of. I could leave it at a railway station and have the police blast it. I could fill it with confetti and antilitter leaflets. Or if I could be sure that the wind is in the right direction, stuff it with pr0n, so that it all showers down over the Catholic Cathedral at lunchtime, leaving the nuns and cardinals bothered and bewildered.