Floods and Mud

The weather's been so warm lately we've been sleeping with our bedroom window wide open - pleasant for us but a disaster for those up north, including a friend from university days who's been flooded out of his home, and Son the Younger's girlfriend, stuck in her village for a couple of days without electricity.  On my annual Leeds-and-back-in-one-day round trip yesterday, I took wellies in case, not least because we had to collect Kitten Nini and older step-brother Monstertruck from their Christmas lodgings in Kirkstall and take them back across the flooded River Aire to their home with Daughter the Elder. 

In the event, the only flooding we saw was on the River Avon (Shakespeare's) where it passes under the M5 near Pershore in Worcestershire.  

In Leeds the canal we crossed was full but contained, and Kirkstall Road was passable though sodden-looking.  The businesses lining the street were in darkness.  

This afternoon, back in Bristol, we went for a walk on Kingsweston Down, a ridge of limestone grassland that runs south west from Blaise Castle estate.  

The iron-age hill-fort

Unseasonal signs included daisies ...

... and there was also lots and lots of mud.  Ted's element, it would appear. 

 

  

You can walk along the ridge all the way to Avonmouth, but we were a bit tardy getting out so only got as far as the telly transmitter before it started getting dusky.  A pair of ravens passed overhead, cronking companionably.

It was lovely. 

Saturn in the Second House

Saturn was in transit yesterday, from first house in Bristol with mother cat and owner Emma to second house in Leeds with Daughter Number 1.  At Tamworth services there was some surprisingly loud mewing from the back of the car and when we peered into the cat carrier, we were met by a pair of accusatory sea-green eyes.  I tried mewing back, pretty certain I was speaking cat but not entirely sure what I was saying.  It could only have been in part reassuring as the racket continued sporadically for the rest of the journey.  

There was some concern about how little kittle would cope once out in the world and in contact with hard-bitten Northern moggies.  Would they sneer and call her a Soft Southern Jessie - pick a fight, even?  But we decided her likely riposte - 'I am Saturn, I eat babies' - would probably keep them at bay.  

Our return transit was via Holmfirth and Holme, where we had a pub lunch, the journey blessed with interesting skies, shadow and sun.  Above is the view from the A6204, looking back to Holmfirth and the whole of Yorkshire (almost).

Below, Derbyshire and the Peak District. 

 

Then home down the M6 and M5 to the beautiful South West.  How lovely.  How lucky!