Mizzle

It looked like a beautiful day unfolding through my window, so I put my coat on and went for a walk. I soon found that looks are deceptive. Despite the blue sky, sunshine and apparent lack of rain clouds there was in fact a constant slight drizzle, so light you'd perhaps call it a mizzle. It was as if the weather was acting like an overtired child; as though it had simply got into the habit of being whining and tearful and couldn't stop grizzling/drizzling. I still enjoyed my walk (the usual route) but by the time I got home the light damp had turned into steadier rain. I gather we've had getting on for four times the average amount of rainfall in the past month in this area, on top of a rather wet winter overall. I'm not really complaining, as the alternative of drought is just as bad, but I'm looking forward to some reliably dry weather now.

Storm Ciara

Storm Ciara dumped a whole load of torrential rain, along with gale force winds, on the UK on Saturday night through to Sunday. The towns in the Calder valley were again badly affected by flooding, despite considerable sums being spent on flood defences since the epic disaster of December 2015.

In Saltaire, the floods weren't as bad as 2015. Compare my picture below with the one HERE, taken in 2015 from about the same spot. This time the water didn't reach the Half Moon Café and the alpaca statue. In 2015 the alpacas were standing in water up to their necks.

It's quite scary though, watching the force of so much water. It can do a lot of damage. They were busy putting up flood barriers to protect The Boathouse Inn, which was badly damaged in 2015. When I was there on Sunday, the water had not quite reached the level of the terrace. In theory the river level was supposed to peak about the time I was there but I haven't had chance to go back to see if it got worse or better.

I'm not sure the dog in the picture below can understand why he can't walk along his usual route around Roberts Park. It looked as though the cricket pitch playing surface was spared. I'm sure the greenkeepers will be relieved.

So wet...

October, November and December have all been rather wet months hereabouts. The rain has been steady and drizzly, only occasionally torrential, so the River Aire has been coping, just about. It is, as you can see from the picture below, rather full and very fast-flowing.

Everywhere is exceedingly muddy. In low-lying areas, lakes have appeared where usually there is grass. I think it is groundwater rather than overspill from the river. The 'pond' in the photo above is on the low land between the Upper Coach Road estate and the river itself, where they are trying to create a new nature reserve. The houses overlooking it are at a rather higher level, luckily, but even so, the residents may be a little wary, remembering the horrendous floods of Christmas 2015. Thinking positive, the reflections of the trees in the pool at least add a little interest to the scene.

On a personal note, I noticed a bit of damp appearing in the corner of the kitchen near the back door. Further investigation traced the problem to water dripping from the roof and I realised that I had a little hebe plant growing in the guttering, offspring of a bush in the neighbours' garden that had been allowed to get way too big. The new neighbours cut the bush down, thankfully, but I keep finding its babies all over the place! It was a difficult job to get a roofer to come out and deal with it; the roofs of these old houses are pretty high up and many don't like working so high without scaffold. The job has now been done, phew. Hopefully the damp patch will dry out in time...  Old houses are always throwing up problems!

Dreich again

Dreich: A Scottish word meaning 'Wet, dull, gloomy, dismal, dreary or a combination of these.' Much of November in these parts exactly corresponded to this descriptor. I suppose that is not untypical for the autumn-winter transition but day after day of the same drizzly weather has meant it's been hard to keep up my spirits. I met some friends in one of the coffee shops on Gordon Terrace and we had a good chat, which is one way to lift one's mood temporarily. On my way home, I stopped briefly to take a phone pic of the view from the top of George Street. It's a miracle the photo doesn't show any camera shake, as I was also trying to prevent my umbrella blowing inside out at the same time!

Incidentally, this little terrace at the very top of George Street, beyond the intersection with Saltaire Road, is a bit unappreciated, I think. The street here almost has a back-alley feel to it. It's narrow, with the streets and alleys opposite running at right angles away from it. It's only really used as a walkway and for parking. The houses themselves, with their tiny gardens, are actually quite attractive and their arrangement is quite pleasing.

A damp day in the Dales

Hardy photographers from my camera club (well, myself and two others!) were not put off by the rain at the start of our planned walk round Grassington's wildflower meadows a few weeks ago. Upper Wharfedale, with its lush greenery, dry stone walls and stone field-barns, can look stunning on a sunny, summery day but the drizzle and low cloud brought a different kind of beauty - and it didn't rain for all of the day!

(We're having a heatwave now, so these cool photos are nice to look back on.)

Cloudburst

That's April for you... One minute it's warm(ish) and sunny and then there's a cloudburst. In this instance it was actually a sudden hailstorm that passed over, as I was driving over the hills near Denholme. The view as the storm moved away was rather better from higher up but there was nowhere to pull the car off the road; this was the first place I could safely stop. Still quite dramatic.

Fog on the Aire

Christmas Eve turned out to be a beautiful day: clear and cold, with a heavy frost. It was the first day I could get out with my new camera, having sussed out at least the basics of its operating system. What a treat it was, enjoying the cold, crisp air and experimenting with the new gear. I struggled to figure out the focusing system, so some of the photos didn't turn out all that well. This one was one of the better ones, showing the mist rising on the surface of the river as the sun rose and warmed things up.

In full flow

Yesterday I showed the River Aire in Roberts Park and here we have the River Wharfe in Ilkley (photos taken last Sunday).  Like the Aire, it is full almost to capacity, though not quite overtopping its banks. I suppose what happens next depends on what the weather is like for the next week or so up in the Yorkshire Dales. Will we get some flooding or not?

Replenished

The last few weeks of dreary, wet weather have at least had a beneficial effect on the rivers. One would hope too that the reservoirs higher up in the Dales, which were severely depleted by the very dry summer, have been refreshed, though it will take quite a lot of rainfall to fully restore their water levels.

My own little barometer is the River Aire running through Roberts Park. On Saturday it had reached the very perimeter of its course, though had not broken its bank. The weir was tumbling with a magnificent roar.

Devon: Sea fret days

It was warm, sometimes hot, in Devon, even at the coast. There were a couple of days when a sea fret was blown in: warm, moist air condensing over the cooler sea and being blown inland. It was wonderfully atmospheric and quite a pleasure to find something other than clear blue sky to capture in photos. 

Above: Sea fret meeting storm clouds (although the storm never materialised) and below: looking across Lee Bay to Woody Bay.

Above: Countisbury church, shrouded in a gentle mist
Below: Tendrils of mist whispering up the lane from the beach to the house.

More weather

My online photo group theme for February was, appropriately enough, 'weather' - and this image pretty much sums up most of February's weather round here, until the snow arrived. It's easy enough to capture fog, even rain - but wind is harder to convey in a still photo. I was quite pleased with this depiction, which I think does suggest the howling wind on top of the moor, bending the grasses and twisting the few hardy bushes that manage to survive up there, some 430m above sea level. I'm never sure why the wind doesn't blow the fog away but I suppose you're really inside a cloud up there!

Fog, rain, sleet

Fog, rain, sleet, wind - oh, what dreary weather we're having. I know it's winter but I much prefer the type of winter where we get dry, crisp, sunny days. It's been much colder overall here this winter, than last, but I don't mind that. (I always find it's easier to get warm when you're cold than cool when you're too hot! So our northerly climate suits me well, actually.) But I do mind the damp and dull days, when you really can't get out for a good walk. This was what it looked like driving back from my daughter's the other day. The views over towards Haworth were obscured by the drizzly mist and I had to dodge huge puddles and sheets of water sluicing across the moorland road. I got home safely... and that's the nicest bit: getting home, pulling up a chair by the fire and having a mug of hot tea to warm me through again. Aahhh....

Storm clouds

A familiar view of Saltaire's URC church tower, with the Dining Hall (now a college building) and the rail station in the foreground. Familiar - but different when low sunlight against stormy clouds highlights the stonework and brings out the autumn russet tones. (This was taken a week ago; now the trees are almost bare.)

Heather in the rain

The weather, now that the school holidays have started, has turned changeable and unpredictable. (Wouldn't you know!) I make arrangements in advance to meet with friends to go walking and sometimes we have to have a Plan B because of the weather. One day this week, the forecast was for a fine start followed by light cloud or drizzle, so we decided to stick with Plan A and set off, hoping for the best. We hadn't gone very far when the drizzle started and then turned to proper rain. We ploughed on regardless and walked nearly 11 miles. I was pretty soaked and muddy when I got home, but satisfied, having walked further than I normally would and in such testing conditions too. I actually enjoyed it.

Part of the walk crossed a little patch of heather moorland, reminding me that the heather is in peak bloom right now. I must make time for a trip to Ilkley or Haworth, where the moors are stunningly beautiful at this time of year. The scene above is typical of the moors around here, with stone flagged paths that were at one time well-used by travellers and even packhorses going from one settlement to another.

Drama

From this angle, the Victoria Hall does look a bit 'naked' since they felled the large trees that stood nearby. The lion sculptures, however, are easier to appreciate and you can see, too, the glory of Hope Hill in the distance above the house roofs. You also see a lot more sky - not a bad thing when it is as dramatic as this one was. A huge hailstorm had just passed over.

Cloud mirrors

Such a beautiful day...  I walked past my favourite trees again and enjoyed the way the clouds were echoing their shapes.

We're having a lovely spell of dry weather, though before long they'll be saying it's a drought! This coming Bank Holiday weekend (27-29) is the annual Saltaire Arts Trail, so let's hope the good weather continues.

It's black over Bill's mother's

'It's black over Bill's mother's'' is a phrase you'll probably only understand if you're from the North of England or the Midlands. It's what people say when there are storm clouds visible on the horizon. The origin of the phrase appears to be doubtful. Some say it refers to William Shakespeare, others to Kaiser Wilhelm II, the last German emperor, whose character and foreign policy was changeable and blustering. Others say it has more local origins. But whatever the truth of the phrase, it is often apt round here!

Saltaire's houses are dwarfed by the huge bulk of the Victoria Hall which extends back in a T-shape behind its tower.

Stormy light

One thing about this time of year is that the light can be wonderful. Low sunshine and storm clouds make a powerful combination, especially when the golden colour lights up the already golden stone of the buildings in Saltaire. This is the familiar tower of the New Mill, which never fails to delight with its ornate Italianate architecture. And yes, I did get home before the rain came.

It's all about the sky

There were fantastic views driving back down towards Grassington from the lead mining area. Although I wished the incessant rain would stop for longer than just a few minutes at a time, that kind of weather makes for some fabulous and dramatic skies.

I learned several things during the week:
- a plastic bag is better than nothing for keeping one's camera reasonably dry, though excessive use of the telephoto lens in the rain can cause moisture to seep inside the lens casing;
- a microfibre towel is a must-carry accessory for a photographer when it's raining;
- my boots and coat appear to be waterproof;
- waterproof over-trousers keep you warmer as well as drier;
- you should don the said over-trousers before you put your boots on;
- 'tis also better to put the rain-cover over one's backpack before it starts raining;
- similarly, it's better to put one's gloves on before one's hands get cold!
- adjourning to a nice café serving decent coffee and cake makes everything seem much better.

Colour pop at Poppit

Wales - the weather was so changeable... One minute it was grey and rainy (see Thursday) and the next minute the clouds thinned, the wind dropped, the sun came out, the sea glowed turquoise and the lifeguards' flag, though hanging limply, was bursting with colour. A minimalist photo but pleasing, I think.