Sunday 28.2.2021

 Up the road just before seven on the most glorious cold morning: not a breath of wind, hard white frost, a blood red sun peering over the horizon as the now waning moon descended below the one opposite. 

The birds were already in full throat but in that icy, motionless air their songs and calls seemed to resonate even louder, echoing around the woods, topped by the noisy drummiing of a woodpecker.

The rising sun lit up the top of the trees and would soon dissipate the frost  

 but as we turned for home the open ground remained rock hard and sparkling, with only one tiny lonely reminder of the big snow. 

And so back to the full Sunday morning breakfast and coffee and more coffee.........

......when the day starts this well the rest of it has a lot to live up to.