Barren fenlands

Let's face it, there is nothing pleasant about windy, grey and wet winter days. This was my conclusion as I stood shivering at Ely Station observing the wind battered landscape, attempting to use my backpack as a windbreak. The recent galeforce winds have tipped me over the edge into full blown hatred of the flat exposed fenlands.

When I return from this upcoming work trip, let Spring be in full blossom, let March have an unprecedented heatwave and let mountains have formed in the fens to provide some shelter. We should be grateful that lots of our lettuces and onions come from this region, yet it's probably not somewhere that ever should have been drained and settled.

Or maybe I could just move. Or emigrate again.