Winter problems 1

...Or Rural Gloom, perhaps. Whatever we call it, this winter malarkey has the effect of totally disrupting the even tenor of my twilight years (such an appropriate description, don't you think?), which include, for preference, a decent walk in the afternoon. I like to walk, come home hungry, eat and collapse on the sofa.

But it just doesn't work on a gloomy day when the sun vanishes insanely early whether it's been visible or not. It doesn't work, for example, if your morning spread into early afternoon as you tried to find perfectly normal food items in a supermarket stuffed with ready-made temptations especially to ensure that you'll be wildly overweight before you even get to Christmas (Did you know that the least offensive Mince Pie has at least 120 calories in its three-bites-and-it's-gone?)

You arrive home with what you've found. It has to be unpacked and put away. You eat some meagre repast and do something sinful like reading ... and suddenly it's past 3 o'clock (remember that?) and if you're going for any kind of walk you'd better get your skates on. Or your shoes.

And so it comes about, O Best Beloved, that you're walking along a very dark country road in the gloaming. The lights of Bute vie with a small patch of lighter sky that may be blessing the good people of Ayr with its brightness. There are several sheep in the field, looking slightly white. And in the distance, where a machine seems to be putting winter defences along the shore road, there is a convocation of manic geese, screaming.

And we are in danger of being run into the hedge by every passing car. We have only managed to walk for 40 minutes before discretion takes over and we retreat. Not a decent walk at all. 

Hence this absurd rant and dire photo. Good evening.