Friday 16.12.2011

White road, frosted grass, the sky a mixed palette of pinks and pale blues, soft greys and lilacs - and cold, very cold and so still you could hear sounds from miles away as if they were echoing off the sky.
As we returned, a tiny owl - a Little Owl presumably?! - glided silently past us and in the distance, silhouetted across the last of the light, a chain of black dots, crows returning to their roost in the woods.
Very cold, very still, very quiet. The best of winter.