A couple of years ago, I would have just jammed myself under the duvet in fear at the idea of running in bad weather like this, where there is still plenty of lying, hard, slippery white and brown snow in many places. The memory of smashing my elbow after a fall on black ice on my driveway was too vivid, my sense of balance too poor.
Most people would sum this up as "You were chickenshit".
The past is the past though, and now as long as I'm careful I'm relishing these conditions. You can see birds better, everything feels fresher, the sense of achievement is perveresly greater. And also, I can pretened to do "stride and glide" classic style crosws country skiing. To the bemusement of the dog walker and baby pushers I'm finding out on my travels.
Didn't see very much today, went a different route along the cyle path and then along Grange Road to Sconce Hills. Never very much to see there. A few Great Tits were out on the cycle path, and the cemetery trees are stuffed full of watchful woodpigeons and collared dove. The pigeons especially are so motionless is looks as if someone has glued stuffed birds to the trees for a joke.
On Balderton Lake, the black headed gulls sit waiting for the evening, when they take off and form big echelons flying heaven knows where. And me, I run on by, always thinking, always wondering what I'll be lucky enough to see next.