Before winter really arrives

A personal challenge - try and write something every day for January 2025 

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There is a crunchy crispy note to our footsteps as we walk up the side of Dewbarrow Ridge.  Puddles are lidded with a layer of ice and the air although cold, feels and smells earthy and fresh.  It is really good to be out. Snow and icy conditions have been forecast to start this evening - winter is on her way - so we are out on the hills making the most of the lull before the storm.

Although there were several cars stashed here and there along the lane, it appears we are the only ones up in the woods. 

Some walks, I come home tired but happy, others I need to recover before I can appreciate them, but today's.... today's five miles have left me feeling elated!

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Birds either spotted or heard:

Buzzard, Rooks, Nuthatch, Yaffel (Green Woodpecker), Greater Spotted Woodpecker, Crows and the most beautiful of Barn Owls.

'Keewik keewik'

A personal challenge - try and write something every day for January 2025 

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Carrying a small tub laden with toast crumbs, dried sultanas, cold bacon fat and cake, as well as a full kettle of not quite boiled water, I carefully picked my way through the garden to the bird feeder. The Robin was giving running commentary and a cluster of Blackbirds were loitering by the pond watching me with bead bright eyes. 

The bird snacks were emptied into two trays and the water used to help dissolve the thin layer of ice in the water bowls in the garden. 

The sky was the thinnest of clear blue with ragged white contraflow criss-crossing the expanse. In the distance a barrage of shooting - a 'side effect' of living in a village on the edge of privately owned moorland......

Suddenly the female Tawny Owl whistled a plaintive 'keewik keewik' triggering the garden birds to send up warning calls and flutter nervously through the trees. 

I retreated back to the house, more layers needed as my fingers and feet felt lumpen and cold. I returned with my camera and snapped a few photos of frost covered leaves with daggers of ice acting as temporary armour.

Vinca leaves encrusted with sharp stilettos of ice

I recorded the garden birds - Robin, Blackbirds (male and female), Dunnock, Jackdaw, Mistle Thrush, House Sparrow, Great and Coal Tit who were all still grumbling defensively about the now silent Tawny Owl.

a watercolour of a hen Blackbird from my #perpetualjournal - 

ignore the dates, I wrote them incorrectly, I have since amended them.

Dawn

A personal challenge - try and write something every day for January 2025 - let's see how it goes.

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Throwing the curtains open reveals a dark almost blank canvas with just the bedside light reflecting in the glass. A solitary street lamp struggles to shine through the unruly hedge at the bottom of the garden. Then a moment or two later an icy blue slice appears beneath the steel cold grey, emerging from the nothing depth of the night sky.  It was Himself's first day back at work after the festive break and my last day off before I return. So I take the luxurious liberty of returning to bed with a mug of tea, the cat and a book. 

Looking up after a while, I watch the the icy blue sliver slide into a faint lemon yellow, the grey was now a pale sea reaching up and through the retreating tide of the night sky. Colours soften as the daylight returns while trees begin to reappear from the early dawn gloom. The occasional bird flits across my view, flapping in the still air - a start contrast to the last few of days of wet and wild weather.

Photo from a day or two ago looking through the village

Rain runs a thread through it

 Friday
After days of grey dank with the sky having no colour and mist filling all the spaces, we met up with Youngest and his lovely girl for a walk. We slipped and slid our way across muddy fields, deeply pock marked by sheep feet. I listened and failed to hear any bird song - not even subdued twittering although I watched a couple of flocks of starlings fly overhead in tight clusters. The afternoon stealthily darkened so we cut our walk short and returned. Carefully picking our way back, we finally reached firmer footing. With the mist thickening and the light failing, I was grateful to return to Youngest's home and wrap my fingers around a mug of tea. I know we will walk the route again, but hopefully when the weather is better, the sun is shining and the paths are dry.

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Sunday

Himself and I headed off to the Dales to make the most of the mist finally lifting. We set off in fine fettle, looking forward to getting out and although it felt rather fresh with a frisky breeze (well it was December) it was rather nice to have no commitments and know that the day was ours.

It seemed also to belong to many other walkers as the pathways and parking places were the fullest we'd seen for some weeks. We strode out, listening for bird song, watching for wild life and breathing damp cold air.

The pathway - well trod and muddy in places wound and wove itself alongside the River Wharfe, dipping down to the water's edge, following a farm track away then returning to the riverine margins.

We stopped, sitting on a damp ledge with our boots on a sandy 'beach' and watched three mallards steadily make their way towards us as they battled against the river flow and noticeably increasing winds. They were rewarded as we tossed a few crumbled shortbread crumbs before we continued our walk.  The wind now carried rain droplets and on the other side of the river we watched sheets of rain make their way up the valley. Coats were pulled tighter and hats more firmly yanked down over ears and eyebrows. The inclement weather was winning the battle so we turned away from the river, joined a small quiet road and worked our way back to start. Once in the van, heating on, kettle whistling away cheerfully we watched rain creating runnels down the windscreen. 

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Tuesday

New Year's Eve - and with weather warnings being issued with stern voices we all set off to meet up to celebrate the demise of 2024 - which has been a notable year if only for the tide of life being a double edged sword throwing us mixed fortunes amid small glimmers. With both our boys and their lovely girls, we ate (too much) drank (tea, coffee, tonic water and beer - but not simultaneously!) played board games that both flummoxed and frustrated us with equal measure causing amusement and howls of laughter. We watched fireworks on the television and through the rain streaked windows, listened to music, joked and shared stories, cuddled cats and hugged each other.

Wednesday

Rain, so much rain overnight, rivers flooded and fields drowned. After hugging everyone we returned home - today is the first day of the new year, time to reset and think about returning to normal. Here's hoping that you all find 2025 in a better place.

2025 - please be gentle and kind and far far nicer than your predecessor - thank you.