Winter Journeying

Journeys in winter seem more definite, perhaps less casual or spontaneous, even today.  There seems something more deliberate about a journey in short days and difficult weather, even on tarmac roads and in modern cars.  I always try and make the journey about the landscape I am travelling through and not just the traffic or road conditions.  Travelling back from the Lakes I seemed to see a lot of flocks of crows, a lot of bare brown woods, open fields and distant hills. The snow has largely gone, although there were strange sculptural patches - some quite thick - on the Radnor hills, snowfields sculpted by wind and weak sunlight into ellipses and smooth lines, teardrops and irregular lava-lamp blobs.  There was still snow in deep rock gullies.  

And an overnight in Manchester, actually the new world of Salford Quays.  A lit city, even at 4am when the streets are completely deserted.  Windows in the city are covered to keep night light out.  The other thing I noticed was the amount of woodland; every horizon seemed to have a fuzz of empty brown woods, often with black church spires rising from them; Lowry's influence perhaps.  Strange to see this modern city as a place of quiet woods and gaunt churches.