Noise pollution

A mile along the towpath I encounter the noise that has been keeping me awake at night. One of the battleship grey industrial sheds that stand between my house and the canal has sprouted a trio of stainless steel silos which emit a low hum, as of an out-sized extractor fan. It's not a loud noise, but I'm sensitive to low frequency vibration and the hum has been disturbing me. Maybe it will bother me less now I know what it is. But if it does this to me, with my not-so-acute human hearing, what does it do to the wildlife?

Poem: January fog

January fog

There’s a tree on the other side of the road,

but I can’t see it.  I'm inside-out,

a coat whose sleeves have turned awkward.

I want to be the right way round.

I want to see the tree.

Snow

A slight dusting of snow on Blackstone Edge, visible only because I looked for it. 

New Year's Day

Today, New Year's day, the towpath is a social space. The world and its dog is out for a walk. I am embarrassed to be dogless, and compensate by politely greeting every pooch I encounter. The dogs are unimpressed. My doglessness is noted.