Bitter

There are some mornings when it is pure joy to be out and about.  In the summer months, this can be down to warm sunshine, birdsong and the scent of hedgerow flowers.  This morning however, the joy came in the form of a clear, bright, blue sky, the crunch of frozen ground beneath our feet and the face-biting, ear-numbing, feet-freezing cold.  Still well below freezing as we set out, it was a truly beautiful day.

A frosty coating was on all the twigs and fallen leaves and the Hawthorn berries resembled crystallised fruits in the shop windows.

Not everyone was pleased with the weather.  Malcolm would have preferred it at least twenty degrees warmer for a start.  The poor birds on the lakes of Straw's Bridge were equally unimpressed by it all.  Ducks, coots and gulls all stood on the frozen surface wondering what had happened, while the swans tried to keep small patches of water free from ice and sheltered under the overhanging Alders.

Glorious sunshine glistened off the iced lakes, setting the scene for the Coots' interpretation of a 'Torvill and Dean' routine.

Back home for a hot coffee and a (medicinal?) tot of something from the Brandy bottle I think!