Journal tags: spring

This weekend it felt like Spring dropped like an unexpected new album from Taylor Swift or Beyoncé.

The weather turned nice and sunny. The clocks sprang forward an hour. I had my first asparagus of the year. Flowers are flowering. It’s all just very nice.

It’s like the year would like to make up for the disappointing performance in its first quarter and promises much better things for the quarter to come.

I understand now why a major religion would co-opt this time of year for a resurrection-themed shindig.

Goodbye Winter. Hello Spring. Nice to see you again.

Spring is arriving. It’s just taking its time.

There are little signs. Buds on the trees. The first asparagus of the year. Daffodils. Changing the clocks. A stretch in the evenings. But the weather remains, for the most part, chilly and grim.

Reality is refusing to behave like a fast-forward montage leading up to to a single day when you throw open the curtains and springtime is suddenly there in all its glory.

That’s okay. I can wait. I’ve had a lot of practice over the past three years. We all have. Staying home, biding time, saving lives.

But hunkering down during The Situation isn’t like taking shelter during an air raid. There isn’t a signal that sounds to indicate “all clear!” It’s more like going from Winter to Spring. It’s slow, almost impercetible. But it is happening.

I’ve noticed a subtle change in my risk assessment over the past few months. I still think about COVID-19. I still factor it into my calculations. But it’s no longer the first thing I think of.

That’s a subtle change. It doesn’t seem like that long ago when COVID was at the forefront of my mind, especially if I was weighing up an excursion. Is it worth going to that restaurant? How badly do I want to go to that gig? Should I go to that conference?

Now I find myself thinking of COVID as less of a factor in my decision-making. It’s still there, but it has slowly slipped down the ranking.

I know that other people feel differently. For some people, COVID slipped out of their minds long ago. For others, it’s still very much front and centre. There isn’t a consensus on how to evaluate the risks. Like I said:

It’s like when you’re driving and you think that everyone going faster than you is a maniac, and everyone going slower than you is an idiot.

COVID-19 isn’t going away. But perhaps The Situation is.

The Situation has been gradually fading away. There isn’t a single moment where, from one day to the next, we can say “this marks the point where The Situation ended.” Even if there were, it would be a different moment for everyone.

As of today, the COVID-19 app officially stops working. Perhaps today is as good a day as any to say Spring has arrived. The season of rebirth.

When I wrote about democratising dev, I made brief mention of the growing “no code” movement:

Personally, I would love it if the process of making websites could be democratised more. I’ve often said that my nightmare scenario for the World Wide Web would be for its fate to lie in the hands of an elite priesthood of programmers with computer science degrees. So I’m all in favour of no-code tools …in theory.

But I didn’t describe what no-code is, as I understand it.

I’m taking the term at face value to mean a mechanism for creating a website—preferably on a domain you control—without having to write anything in HTML, CSS, JavaScript, or any back-end programming language.

By that definition, something like WordPress.com (as opposed to WordPress itself) is a no-code tool:

Create any kind of website. No code, no manuals, no limits.

I’d also put Squarespace in the same category:

Start with a flexible template, then customize to fit your style and professional needs with our website builder.

And its competitor, Wix:

Discover the platform that gives you the freedom to create, design, manage and develop your web presence exactly the way you want.

Webflow provides the same kind of service, but with a heavy emphasis on marketing websites:

Your website should be a marketing asset, not an engineering challenge.

Bubble is trying to cover a broader base:

Bubble lets you create interactive, multi-user apps for desktop and mobile web browsers, including all the features you need to build a site like Facebook or Airbnb.

Wheras Carrd opts for a minimalist one-page approach:

Simple, free, fully responsive one-page sites for pretty much anything.

All of those tools emphasise that don’t need to need to know how to code in order to have a professional-looking website. But there’s a parallel universe of more niche no-code tools where the emphasis is on creativity and self-expression instead of slickness and professionalism.

neocities.org:

Create your own free website. Unlimited creativity, zero ads.

mmm.page:

Make a website in 5 minutes. Messy encouraged.

hotglue.me:

unique tool for web publishing & internet samizdat

I’m kind of fascinated by these two different approaches: professional vs. expressionist.

I’ve seen people grapple with this question when they decide to have their own website. Should it be a showcase of your achievements, almost like a portfolio? Or should it be a glorious mess of imagery and poetry to reflect your creativity? Could it be both? (Is that even doable? Or desirable?)

Robin Sloan recently published his ideas—and specs—for a new internet protocol called Spring ’83:

Spring ‘83 is a protocol for the transmission and display of something I am calling a “board”, which is an HTML fragment, limited to 2217 bytes, unable to execute JavaScript or load external resources, but otherwise unrestricted. Boards invite publishers to use all the richness of modern HTML and CSS. Plain text and blue links are also enthusiastically supported.

It’s not a no-code tool (you need to publish in HTML), although someone could easily provide a no-code tool to sit on top of the protocol. Conceptually though, it feels like it’s an a similar space to the chaotic good of neocities.org, mmm.page, and hotglue.me with maybe a bit of tilde.town thrown in.

It feels like something might be in the air. With Spring ’83, the Block protocol, and other experiments, people are creating some interesting small pieces that could potentially be loosely joined. No code required.

Spring sprung last weekend. Saturday was an unseasonably nice and sunny day, so Jessica and I decided to make the most of it with a walk in the countryside.

Our route took us from Woodingdean to Lewes. Woodingdean isn’t too far away from where we live, but the walk there would’ve been beside a busy road so we just took the bus for that portion.

Being on the bus means we didn’t stop to take note of an interesting location. Just outside the Nuffield hospital is the unassuming opening of the Woodingdean Water Well. This is the deepest hand-dug well in the world—deeper than the Empire State Building is tall—dug over the course of four years in the mid nineteenth century. I didn’t even know of its existence until Brian told me about it.

From Woodingdean, we walked along Juggs Road. Originally a Roman ridgeway, it was named for the fishwives travelling from Brighton to Lewes with their marine wares. This route took us over Newmarket Hill, the site of many mock battles in the 18th century, for the amusement of the royals on a day out from the Pavilion.

Walking through Kingston, we came to the Ashcombe Windmill, where I pet a nice horsey.

Then it was on into Lewes, where we could admire the handsome architecture of Lewes Cathedral …the local wags’ name for Harveys Brewery. Thanks to Ben’s connections, Clearleft managed to get a behind-the-scenes tour of this Victorian marvel a few months ago.

This time round, there would be no brewery tour, but that’s okay—there’s a shop right outside. We chose an appropriate ale to accompany a picnic of pork pie and apple.

Having walked all the way to Lewes, it would’ve been a shame to return empty-handed, so before getting the bus back to Brighton, we popped into Mays Farm Cart and purchased a magnificent forerib of beef straight from the farm.

‘Twas a most worthwhile day out.

Spring is well and truly springing. The days are getting nice and long. The sky is often clear and blue. The temperature occasionally reaches levels conducive to T-shirt and shorts.

These are good days to be enjoyed by the sea in Brighton. Lately though, I’ve been spending quite a few of these days travelling to and from London on client work. But even then, trapped in a train travelling the vertical line of the compass, the view on the countryside outside can look downright glorious—luminously green fields filled with signs of newborn animal lives illuminated by the springtime sun.

There’s been a whole series of events going on in Brighton this month under the banner of Spring Forward:

Spring Forward is a month-long celebration of the role of women in digital culture and runs throughout March in parallel with Women’s History Month.

Luckily for me, a lot of the events have been happening at 68 Middle Street—home of Clearleft—so I’ve been taking full advantage of as many as I can (also, if I go to an event that means that Tessa doesn’t have to stick around every night of the week to lock up afterwards). Charlotte has been going to even more.

I managed to get to Tech In Ten—run by She Codes Brighton—which was great, but I missed out on Pixels and Prosecco by Press Fire To Win which sounded like it was a lot of fun. And there are more events still to come, like She Says and Ladies That UX.

What’s great about Spring Forward events like She Codes, 300 Seconds, She Says, and Ladies That UX is that they aren’t one-offs; they’re happening all-year round, along with other great regular Brighton events like Async and UX Brighton.

And then there’s Codebar. I had heard about Codebar before, but Spring Forward was the first chance I had to get stuck in—it was being hosted at 68 Middle Street, so I said I’d stick around to lock up afterwards. I’m so glad I did. It was great!

In a nutshell, Codebar offers a chance for people who are under-represented in the world of programming and technology to get some free training by pairing them with tutors who volunteer their time. I offered to help out anyone who was learning HTML and CSS (after tamping down the inevitable inner voice of imposter syndrome that was asking “who are you to be teaching anyone anything?”).

I really, really enjoyed it. It was so nice to meet people from outside the world of web design and development. It was also a terrific reminder that the act of making websites is something that everybody should be able to participate in. This is for everyone.

Codebar Brighton takes place once a week, changing up the venue on rotation. As you can imagine, it takes a lot of work to maintain that momentum. It’s thanks to the tireless efforts of the seemingl indefatigable Ruby programmers Rosa and Dot that it’s such a great success. I am in their debt.