The Weather Vane

Again, our dear Sugar Factory.

We have northerly winds today. I know that for two reasons.

The first is that you can smell the sugar factory, the rich, organic and earthy sweet smell of roasting / refining / whatever the hell it is they do sugar beet. It lies to the north of the town, on The Great North Road, a retro looking mass of belching pipes and chimneys, and when you can smell it, you know the wind is from degree zero.

The second is that as I sit at work, watching the twilight behind the dark clouds of smoke it emits as I plan my journey home, I use it as a weather vane. When the smoke blows to the left, it means it is indeed a northerly wind, usually a cold one although not today, and will not be into my face.

Every day in autumn and  winter I check it, until the campaign ends in March, when warmer weather means I fear the wind less.

Si

All text and images copyright CreamCrackeredNature 11.01.19

Sugar Factory Sunset

So it has been my, gulp, 46th Birthday today, although I don't remotely feel that old either physically or mentally.

It's actually been a pleasant day at work, with kind gifts of rum, cake and chocolate, muchly appreciated too. I didn't even stuff myself too much, and most folk near my desk had a slice of chocolate caterpillar. Or "human centipede" as I referred to it.

If you don't get that reference, don't look it up.

The sugar factory, the town's Gotham City type most prominent landmark, is back on campaign, and the unmistakable earthy smell pervades the town again when autumnal winds blow from the north-west. When I'm out running or cycling in the countryside, the roads will be lined with the lumpy brown things, as Blackadder described the potato way back when.

I always find it odd that these most gnarly of roots end up keeping my cups of tea sweet.

The factory looked stunning, against the stunning sunset.

Si

All text and images copyright CreamCrackeredNature 09.10.18