From start to finish, beginning to end, the second day of the new year has been nothing more than varying shades of grey. A grey morning was relentlessly pursued by , you’ve guessed, a grey afternoon. Coupled with copious amounts of drizzle it’s been less than inspirational even if it has at least been somewhat seasonal.

While the tabloids are running headlines predicting an apocalyptic amount of snow later in the month, anywhere between 14 and 20 inches depending on which daily you care to subscribe to, the weather forecasters at least seem to agree that we might see a little sunshine tomorrow to go along with, yes that’s right, more cloud, hurrah! Though they also say that there’s just a 20% chance of precipitation, a damned fancy word for downpour if ever there was one, so there’s always a silver lining if you care to look for it. Bring it on I say, I’m well and truly done with grey, monotone, monotony, bring me some sunshine….please.

To cap it all , under these boring, bland skies we’ve also said goodbye to Christmas today and packed away the decorations. For 11 months and three weeks we don’t decorate the house but in the week before the big day, sometimes sooner, we deck the halls and throw up the tree, cover it in lights and generally make the place look like Santa’s grotto for a good fortnight. Then we tear it all back down, stuff it in boxes, confine it to the loft and the lounge looks like we’ve been burgled, though no-one’s taken anything of value, for the next few days until we get used to the bareness. Oh well, only another 11 months and three weeks until we start all over again!

New Year’s Day today has seen the annual classic car run here in the town, sponsored by a local company Hart’s of Sturminster Newton. It’s always a well supported event, local petrol heads and vintage car owners bring their machinery and mingle with the general public on the town’s main car park before trundling off into the Dorset countryside for an hour or two culminating in a pub lunch locally, all in all a great event enjoyed by an ever increasing and appreciative audience.

In addition to the ancient and exotic vehicles there are a fair sprinkling of motorcycles, I love motorcycles, well, motorcycles of the early 70’s and 80’s, after that they all began to look the same, shrouded in fibreglass and indistinguishable from one company to the next except perhaps for colour. The model in today’s opening photo holds a particular place in my motorcycling love affair. At 16 I was set to hit the open road with my first machine, an old BSA Bantam that had seen life as a GPO messengers machine, I couldn’t wait to get out there and enjoy my freedom…..and then the powers that be scuppered me and moved the age to hold a driving licence from 16 to 17 years old. Foiled, the Bantam was sold, hopes of riding off into the sunset were dashed for another 12 months, dashed but not diminished. I think the twelve months in purgatory awaiting my licence only fuelled the desire and as soon as possible I was the owner of a shiny new machine which I rode to death for a little over 12 months.

It very nearly was a case of ‘ridden to death’ as a dark November’s night and an errant farm dog conspired to pitch me , in the darkness of the night, along the road on almost every part of my anatomy including my head. The sight of sparks being generated by the studs on my helmet visor grinding on the tarmac was illuminating to say the least. I don’t thing there was an article of clothing that didn’t bear scars, I had holes in everything right down to my socks. Fortunately I only had holes in my clothes, my physicality reamined unscathed as did my enthusiasm for the ‘two wheeled fiend’ and at 18 I took delivery of one of the most wonderful machines of the day, the 250cc Suzuki Hustler, albeit mine was a blue model. I’ve had countless machines and numerous cars since but the Hustler remains almost a little bit of my DNA. Being reaquainted with one today brings back so many great memories of so many places, so many people, it was certainly a trip down memory lane.

Here we are again, another year older, another one about to begin someone famously sang. Time flies by and now I find myself sounding like my parents in that the older you get the quicker it seems to go. It barely seems possible that we’ve seen another 365 days go by, granted, we’ve all undoubtedly seen a lot, done a lot, enjoyed some of it, regretted some of it but another year has gone by and we’re now gearing ourselves up to celebrate the incoming New Year and wishing goodbye to not just another year but another whole decade.

For my part I’ve enjoyed a good year, I’ve loved, lived and laughed, there haven’t been any tears and few regrets, I would consider it a rather good year and I’m looking forward to another much like the last. That said, nothing is a given and I’ve known friends and aquaintances who’ve not been so fortunate, there have been some who’ve experienced major illness, and sadly, some who’ve endured heartbreaking loss. Their experiences are a constant reminder of the frailty of life and something that we all have to face at some time.

To that end, as the year slowly ticks by and slips away and we consider the making of New Year resolutions we should perhaps resolve to grasp the moment, seize every opportunity, love more freely, hate less readily, judge less quickly and treasure those closest to us while we are still able. With that ‘here endeth the sermon’ and all that remains for me to do is wish anyone reading this a very healthy, happy New Year.

Yesterday I took the opportunity to walk through Piddles Wood, I haven’t been for a while, in fact the last time I went there were still leaves on the trees aplenty. I’d gone looking for the changing Autumn colours but there weren’t any changing colours, the season came late this year and when the time came I found my inspiration in other woodlands, Piddles Wood was abandoned in favour of other nearby locations. Now the leaves have gone and the trees stand naked, revealing their sculptural beauty for all to see, they are just as wonderful in their bare and barren state as they are when they cover and clothe the canopy in other seasons.

The subsiding floodwaters gave me the opportunity to complete the circular walk from Sturminster Newton down through Fiddleford and then into the woods and onto Broad Oak before returning home. The mild afternoon weather was just the catalyst required and, armed with the camera, I set off, at this time of year you still have to make ground at a reasonable pace as the light falls off quite quickly and with the soggy heavy ground, uphill climbs, gates and styles I knew my leisurely walk might become something of a route march.

There were puddles galore, though I hadn’t been to the wood for a month or two it was evident from the muddly footprints that others had trecked and tracked the woodland paths on a regular basis despite all the inclement weather we’ve had. In places, without appropriate footwear, the going would have been quite arduous, as it was I found myself ankle deep in mud in places that had been well trod and even deeper in water in the odd place or two. I was grateful of the easier walking on the metalled path and, eventually, the road back to civilisation as I wandered through the later stages of my afternoon stroll, content that I had, at last, made a visit to the wild wood.

I was grateful of my wellingtons this morning. The river’s back between the banks but in places there’s still evidence of floodwaters that have yet to recede and everywhere you go the ground is saturated and sodden. However, at least today I could walk the fields down to Fiddleford, albeit picking my way very gingerly in places.

I think it may be some time before things dry out to any great degree, the water table is so high at the moment and there’s nowhere for any excess to go but at least today there’s been no rain and we’re set fair for the next couple of days as well according to the weather forecast. There’s even a suggestion that by New Year’s day the weather may show us some cooler conditions, a frost would be quite welcome as it would add something a little different to the landscape, I’m tired of floodwater now.

The water that’s currently flowing in the Stour is brown and dirty and despite the fact that it’s back between it’s banks there is still an awful lot of water making it’s way slowly downstream. At Fiddleford the river bubbled and boiled as it thundered over the weir and into the eel runs, the noise was deafening and watching the tumbling waters was almost hypnotic, all in all not a bad way to spend a Sunday morning in the desperately soggy countryside.

Space. I wish I had some, just enough to swing a cat, metaphorically speaking as I quite like cats despite their aloofness, I don’t harbour any desire to hurt or cause them any distress, but I would love a little space. Somewhere to expand a little rather than having to breathe in, as it were, in order to accomplish the simplest of tasks.

Having said that, I guess working within restrictions tends to focus the mind, you find ways to overcome the lack of space, to manipulate what you have to hand. The great God ‘Facebook’ has me described as a ‘Visual Storyteller’, I’ve often described myself as a ‘ Liar With A Lens’, the art of smoke and mirrors goes an awful long way when your kit bag is a little light on luxuries and only contains the basics.

Vision, Application, Inspiration and a little experience often amount to everything. Hopefully you’ll agree that the end result is a far cry from the mundane origins of today’s project which is the result of a chance encounter just before Christmas and which may result in a further project in due course. If nothing else it serves to illustrate that not everything is as it appears, nor does getting a result depend on having an armful of the latest equipment….though a little space would make life easier!

It’s over, almost in a puff of smoke, the holiday period has been and gone and things are almost back to normal. I always feel a little deflated after Boxing Day, it’s as though the joy and excitement have evaporated, I think my mood matches the weather this afternoon, gloomy to say the least.

This morning we’ve done the sales, well, Helen’s done the sales, I’ve drunk coffee and helped to carry bags, I have to admit it wasn’t too onerous. We were there at opening time, a very civilised 08;00am, Helen’s pre-sales recce meant she knew exactly what she wanted and where to find it, job done we were in and out before parking wars and the general hullabaloo began. By the time things were in full swing locally we’d moved on for more bargains in another venue. All in all a quite successful foray into seasonal shopping.

I’d like to say this afternoon’s venture out was as successful but I’d be lying, after yesterday’s incessant deluge the floodwaters, which had receded quite nicely, were back with a vengence. The swollen Stour flowing quickly and the spreading waters covering already waterlogged fields have once again returned adding to the gloom of a dismal December day, normal service has been resumed in more ways than one it seems.

I looked out of the window here at 0530 this morning, the sky was still velvety black, studded with stars, as clear as a bell, Christmas Day was well and truly on it’s way. For all of the promise of a glorious sunrise I declined the opportunity, far too early to be bumbling about waking the household and so I stole another couple of hours though it was only a fitful sleep and when I finally got myself up and about the sky was a very rich orange as the sun heralded daybreak.

We’ve spent the day on the beach and along the front at Weymouth because the weather’s been so glorious, far from the norm. Yes, we often get clear days at this time of year but usually they’re accompanied by the cold, not so today. Today was bright, sunny and positively Mediterranean, we shared the beach with a good number of similar minded folk, their children, pets and even several horses that were cantering up and down at the waters edge. Sitting in the warmth of the sun, watching the world go by and drinking coffee it all felt particularly peaceful. All in all no bad way to spend the early part of Christmas Day.

It’s looking highly unlikely that we’ll be having a white Christmas, in fact I’d go so far as to say it positively won’t be happening, it’s far too mild and once again it’s far too wet but at least the photo’s a seasonal reminder of what might be. As I sit here now in the deepening afternoon gloom of Christmas Eve any positivity on the meteorological front is rapidly evaporating, trickling away as fast as the raindrops running down the window pane.

That said, the day’s not been all doom and gloom, an early morning foray into town and a pre Christmas catch up with friends was a very pleasant start to the day. Sat in the warmth with coffee and cake discussing everything from A to Z was no bad way to start the day coupled with the knowledge that everything is in hand for the next few days and a chance to relax with family, friends and neighbours alike.

After all the hype and excitement Christmas is almost upon us, in less than 24 hours the day will be well and truly in full swing for many and for others on the other side of the world it will almost be over for another year and we’ll be gearing up towards the New Year celebrations, time doesn’t stand still, so, I’ll take the opportunity to wish anyone that stumbles across this a very Merry Christmas, there may or may not be a post tomorrow depending on how the day develops but normal service will be resumed shortly without a doubt.

Two more sleeps to go, two more sleeps till Santa….or so the song goes. Today saw the last Country Market here in Sturminster until after the New Year, my early morning Monday’s have come to a halt for the next three weeks, by which time we will have celebrated Christmas, seen in the New Year and probably broken two thirds of the resolutions we made at the time. I think I shall resolve not to make any resolutions, that way I stand a fair chance of accomplishing something for a change.

Having wrapped things up and put away my market paraphernalia Helen and I decided to make the short journey to Kingston Lacy this afternoon and take in the grand house and the decorations, they also light the gardens but after all the rain we’ve had we thought we’d give that a miss in favour of staying dry and warm. We weren’t disappointed, the National Trust does put on a good show and once again they’d gone to town with the tree’s and tinsel neither were we the only ones who thought so it appears as the house and gardens were quite busy despite it being relatively early afternoon.

The house was decked out resplendently with nigh on a dozen trees of all sizes, all decorated beautifully and set in the lavish rooms amongst all the other associated finery relating to the illustrious history of the house and it’s celebrated ( in Dorset anyway ) family. The Bankes family certainly knew how to live and Christmas was a celebration they evidently took to their hearts. It’s always a wonderful show and it certainly whiled away the afternoon in relative splendour.