
Winter Wagtail - Cameos of Birdlife #1
It’s late afternoon on a cold grey winters day just after Christmas. The high mountains lost in snow-heavy skies; distant woods a purple haze. The New Year beckons.
Winter Wagtail - Cameos of Birdlife #1
It’s late afternoon on a cold grey winters day just after Christmas. The high mountains lost in snow-heavy skies; distant woods a purple haze. The New Year beckons.
A Christmas Post
It’s 10 o’clock in the morning. Still dark, gloomy, and wet; very wet. Well it is where we live anyway. And looks set to stay that way. Even the birds are mostly silent. Yet ...
As the January sun rises over the wooded ramparts of the ancient hill fort I flush a couple of Woodcock from the frost free shadow of a fallen crab ... a Tawny Owl calls from deeper in the woods ...
An early morning walk down our lane in the December snows of last year - a Wren sings loudly from the briar by the field gate. Another churrs angrily from moss covered stones haphazardly filling a gap in the hedge ...
By a Brook in Winter - A fresh fall of snow overnight. I walk in a winter landscape: the green fields mantled white; the blackish branches of willow and ash, edged white, starkly outlined, against the morning light; mirrored in the dark brown-grey of the brook; the distant woods a purple haze against the blue-grey snow clouds above. My footsteps the only sound.