Monday, October 27, 2008

I Live in a Northern Land

There is a song by Edward Elgar called "My Love Dwells in a Northern Land". In Cyprus one of my catchphrases for those whose experience of the English language is standard English as spoken in the Thames Valley/ Oxford areas is, "I come from a Northern Land," said in rather the same way as Blackadder's Baldric spoke of his "cunning plan". I must admit to having to moderate my Northern twang a bit when abroad, even for those English who come from anywhere south of the Manchester Ship Canal. Ee bah 'eck! S'reet, tha' knows.

Anyway, today I got a bleak and powerful reminder I am back in this Northern fastness as I walked into town on my way to the studio with an icy blast coming in across Morecambe Bay fit to take your face off. And with the ever present promise of wind-blown icy rain to boot, if not the threat of snow. Or so it felt. Before you click on the comments bit, yes I was wrapped up under four layers of clothing, (tee-shirt, shirt, sweater, fleece and wax-cotton raincoat.) No sandals this time but my fell boots and heavy jeans.

I think this so-called global warming has passed this bit of the world by.

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