11th-16th November Run notes
Monday
Finally the gloomtober has lifted and I'm treated to a wonderful red morning. I'm off to Sissons wood for a walk and it's cold but still not truly November cold. A mobility scooter comes racing down the footpath Thorpe Lane and I presume the gentleman driving grumbles a thank you at me for getting out the way rather than something worse. The light makes a whole lot of difference as I walk up to the wood and gives everything a much cheerier inflection than last week. I take the low path and try to track the old railway line as far as I can before it's time to turn around. It tracks the existing Wakefield line and LNER trains go past as I stomp through bramble and nettles. I meet a mountain biker at the Morley cut through and we exchange 'Mornings' as he valiantly battles his way up the hill I've come down. On marching back I track the train line as long as I can and find the path is very overgrown but not impassable. I spot to enjoy various fungi and mushrooms growing on the trees before climbing the slope back to the path to Thorpe Lane and home.
Tuesday
An early morning trip to the physio which means a run home before work. The route through south Leeds is one I've done before and involves a gradual climb to Middleton. It's another run where I've misjudged my kit, I've brought gloves but it isn't really that cold but the sun is up and in my face. Sunglasses are essential on days like these, when will I learn. The roads are busy and pavements full of people off to work so it's a lot of bobbing and weaving, I nearly collide with a slow moving cyclist too busy on his phone but gradually it thins out as I come to Dewsbury road. A big bulldog is proudly making his way past shopfronts as I come along behind him and his owner drags him unceremoniously out the way. You can start to feel the hill, then a moments respite down towards Cross Flats park before turning up to the John Charles Sports Centre and a meaty incline all the way into Middleton Park.
Thursday
A milder morning than the rest of the week and I take advantage of it before a forecast of very chilly weather next week. It's wet underfoot and I decide to finally test out my new trail shoes (Saucony Peregrine 14) with a trip to Sissons wood. I stay high up before coming to the woods and get a glimpse of the valley where the morning mist is still hanging about. I come to a large clearing and it's all is quiet, at the far end a red light twinkles from the mountaineer biker I met earlier in the week as he climbs the hill out to the old golf course. I bring my sunglasses but don't need them as a big blanket of cloud swamps most of the sky but as I head back it recedes revealing a clear blue sky.
Friday
It's a walk day so I head down the hill to Dolphin Beck near Thorpe. It's chillier out there today as the weather looks to be turning next week. There aren't many people out and about as I walk down the hill but the roar of the motorway grows and I cut underneath and into the Beck footpath. The marsh runs on the right hand side of the path and the sound of the motorway starts to recede. A thrush hops around in the fallen leaves searching for his breakfast and I startle him off. There's a comment on the radio about oil and gas being gifts from God and I have to stop a minute and think about this. Are all second-order products of the natural world gifts from God? Is the logical extension of this that God ensured the tree would fall in such a place that it would become coal and if so what is left for free will? I also muse that sometimes the best gifts are left be, like the marsh and the trees and my little thrush friend.
Saturday
JUST TAKE YOUR SUNGLASSES. Yep I did the thing again.
Is this the last mild run I ask myself, the cold is coming and potentially snow on Monday or Tuesday. I head up the gated road and pass some walkers but it's otherwise quiet, the sun starts to peek from the clouds and I know I should have brought my glasses. I come through the wood at the top of the road and before turning and am greeted with an arboreal massacre. A big swathe of trees have been felled in a scene of desolation with trunks piled by the roadside with debris and churned earth everywhere. It's a sorry sight to turn away from as I continue to Grafton Underwood. The backroads aren't too busy but there are plenty of idiots driving far too fast, I share a knowing nod with a cyclist as we make space for each other. I come into Grafton village and pass a chap working on his Jeep and a Poetry post. I make a note to stop and take a picture on the way back. I take the turn to Geddington and come out the village past the USAAF 384th Memorial the star-spangled banner and Union flag flutter in the breeze. I turn around just after reaching the start of the Boughton House estate and wind the road back to Grafton and stop to take a picture of the poem. It's Smile by Spike Milligan and I can't help but smile. I make it over the cross road and gradually climb my way back up to see the wind turbines. The skeletons of old Cow parsley line the road sides standing like statues no longer waving in the breeze. A freeze-frame of the summer gone. A red kite sits proudly in a lonely tree with no leaves to hide him. He cries fiercely as I approach and tracks me with a scolding look as I counter past.