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The skies have turned darker, and the air has turned colder. This time last year, it was so different. The blue skies and warm temperatures we experienced in Majorca were definitely unseasonal, with most days in the high teens or early twenties.

The picture above is Plaça Major, a large 19th-century pedestrianised square in the capital Palma, with cafés, restaurants, and shops lining the lower floor of its outer fringes. While market stalls often sell a variety of handicrafts in the centre, entertainers on a small stage jostle and play with the crowds.

With the burnt ochre buildings made brighter by the sun, their green shutters and doors glistening like leaves, this Majorcan memory lightens even the darkest winter day.

While flicking through an old Polo Coupe brochure from the 1980s recently, I found this:

Rather than losing something in the translation, it apparently seems to have gained something.

As if to prove my theory from last week correct, today the weather did its best impression of summer yet, and glorious sunshine saw us head out to Alton Water.

Set in the Suffolk countryside in an area of outstanding natural beauty, Alton Water is the largest area of inland water in the county. Technically Anglian Water’s fourth largest reservoir, it is situated a few miles south of Ipswich, and provides the drinking water for 200,000 customers. A shortage of drinking water in south Suffolk in the late 1960s saw a demand for Alton to be constructed, and work started in the early 1970s.

Formed by building a man-made dam across a natural valley, and using locally available clay, the water supply to fill the 400-acre expanse was obtained by pumping water from the River Gipping four miles away. Also a nature reserve, the reservoir attracts around 100,000 visitors a year.

We could see why. As we walked around the eight-mile rambling route, trying to avoid the gaggles of cyclists using the ten-mile bicycle track, we literally stumbled across wildlife at every turn. Bright yellow-flowered gorse bushes lead us to spawning frog ponds and cormorant-sitting rafts, small birds and rodents let us glimpse them feeding, while the only signs of the elusive barn owls were their large triangular nest boxes placed high up in the trees.

The frogs were an amazing sight, and we had never seen so many in one place before. As the sun tickled our faces, we sat on the banks of the dragonfly pond, and watched as many pairs of beady eyes looked back at us, wondering whether to swim closer. Under the jetty, in the hope of  attracting a mate, a chorus of the slimy amphibians honked away to each other. Sounding like tiny geese, the mating calls didn’t sound like what we had expected, but were strangely soothing all the same. And, as we sat for half an hour or more, they were the only sounds that filled our ears.

By late afternoon, we’d walked around the inland path, and were looking forward to a tea stop, and the visitor centre didn’t disappoint us. As we quenched our thirst, we reflected on the enjoyable afternoon and the watery view in front of us, and vowed to visit again in the summer. It’s the perfect place to take a rug, stake a place in the grassland or wildflower meadows, and enjoy a fun food-filled picnic.

A perfect day.

Wildlife watching closer to home started the day off on Saturday, as the squirrels that visit next door’s garden to use the tree-mounted feeder unwittingly posed for pictures.

Saturday’s weather was less accommodating, but the day was still fun. A mooch around DIY stores to get ideas for home improvements of the paint colour and bathroom kind was followed by a drive out to join the country set in Woodbridge.

We’d seen an old ironmonger’s shop there a few weeks ago on our last visit, and as I need a grate for my flat’s open fireplace, we decided to see what it could offer me. The friendly owner gladly lent us a tape measure so I could compare the widths of the various iron log baskets with my measurements at home. On first thoughts, they all seemed to be too wide, so I returned the pull-out rule and thanked him with the non-intentional punned ‘Thanks, that’s great.’

He wasn’t impressed.

Last night was a fun night of photos, and learning about how to take them. The plan was to snap Canary Wharf in the cold and still darkness, with the steam rising from the top of the fabled One Canada Square, and the lights shimmering like neon-coloured jewels outwards from the tower building.

As it as a dry evening, we walked along the South Bank, starting just past Blackfriars. The Millennium Bridge gave us stopping to take pictures from London Bridge. The brightly-coloured bridge itself was a willing subject, and was joined by HMS Belfast, and Tower Bridge, with Canary Wharf peeping through behind it. Sight-seeing boats hummed to and fro, causing the gentle lapping waves to ripple louder while they passed.

I was shown how to capture long exposure images, and the quite beautiful effects this technique has on water. The river and the reflections on it become still, almost quite literally frozen. We were almost definitely frozen, but my new gloves bought earlier in the day provided much-needed protection from the cold.

Looking across to the north bank of the City, the Tower of London had two-storey high Oscar statues atop the four vaulted roofs, we think, to celebrate Helen Mirren’s success at the Academy Awards. A strange sight indeed, and as we zig-zagged the criss-cross paths toward the eastern end of the Thames, our thoughts turned to satisfying our mild hunger pangs, and how bitingly cold the evening had become.

Canary Wharf shopping centre served as a fulfilling refreshment stop, and while we ate in Jubilee Park, the part of the city from which we had come seemed so far away. Deciding it was too cold to fill our viewfinders any more, we headed for the train, and away from the bright lights of the City, and towards the dark fields of home.

Don’t worry glittering lady of Docklands; we’ll pop by and see you another time soon.

A weekend of memory jogging, this last one. Saturday dawned dry, bright, and surprisingly mild, so plans were made to travel further afield, in search of panoramic countryside vistas and scenic walking paths. Not having last visited since I was at school, Nik and I found ourselves at Framlingham. Best known for its twelve-towered mediaeval castle, the historic market town lies a few miles north west of Wickham Market. The block of apartments in which I live is named after the town too, so it seemed right that we visit.

A muddy circular walk through green fields and meadows brought us to the imposing fortress. Built in the late 1100s by Roger Bigod, the second Earl of Norfolk, Framlingham Castle still stands proudly over the town today. With hollow towers set in its 13-metre high curtain wall, it was besieged by King John in 1215, and was home to Mary Tudor in 1553. It has since changed hands many times, and a poorhouse, prison, and a school are just a few of its former lives.

A perfect day for taking pictures then, and surrounded by Framlingham Mere (an artificial lake set in marshland on its western side), the castle’s stone walls glinted in the slow-fading sun, painting our viewfinders a lovely late-afternoon orange. Stopping to chat and take in the views looking out across the gently rolling Suffolk countryside, fisherman’s pie and baked apples soon called us home.

An electrical gremlin, which was seemingly trying to literally trap us in Nik’s car, necessitated an early wake-up call, and saw us both head down to Essex separately on Sunday morning. We made our birthday-celebrating lunchtime appointment though, and the rest of the day was spent eating birthday cake and blancmange, playing games, and generally having thoroughly enjoyable fun.

I learnt ‘Newmarket’ once again; a family card game which used to be a Christmas and New Year staple when I was young. ‘Betting’ with pennies on one of four horses and laying down cards in numerical sequence, it was surprising how much I remembered. I did make one slip-up; a moment of non-concentration saw a winning ‘horse’ stay in my hand, and the mounting jackpot go to a much more deserving winner.

Bugger.

All in all, a fun and relaxing couple of days. And, I’m glad spring is just around the corner; I’m really enjoying getting out and about.