I love writing about winter and since we have so much of it here perhaps it's just as well. We had our first snow of this winter overnight. I like writing best in winter too, sitting over the fire while the day becomes dark outside and lately it has been dark here at three. This is the statue of Lord Londonderry in the Market Place. It's just been moved a few feet and repaired and the market square and surrounding streets revamped. It cost 5.2 million. Some people think it's wonderful, other people think it's an abortion. This was the man who liked the idea of women and children working in mines. He does look much better with a seagull on his head though, don't you think?
These are our very own monks, carrying Cuthbert's body. They're in Millenium Square right outside the library. There again, perhaps Palace Green would have been more appropriate, they're not even going the right way! Very useful though for beer bottles on a Saturday night.
And the river from Framwellgate Bridge. I use this bridge very often in my stories, I have people standing disconsolate in the middle of it or crying their eyes out over lost loves. In Silver Street, my story about a nurse in the second world war Iris finds the love of her life standing here on a very wet day when everybody else has gone home.
In the Road to Berry Edge Rob and Harry come from visiting prostitutes ( I take no responsibility for what people do in Silver Street in the stories ) and Rob remembers as they stand there how his brother drowned and he became his father's last hope. All in vain, of course. South Street, just above the north side of the bridge is where the prostitute lives that Rob falls in love with. He came from Consett, the old steel town where his father owned the works.
My characters people the small city which is probably why I love it so much or maybe it's the other way round and especially on a day like this when it is at its best.