Winter trees

A few brave birds were singing in this morning's sunshine, as if spring was beginning. The trees by the Tweed are less easily fooled and remain locked in winter.

The path into the wood, among gnarled branches, is one of those images that occurs time and again in Northern European folklore, both inviting and menacing.

It was really good to get out in the fresh air today - the first time in weeks - and to feel like walking, rather than collapsing into an exausted heap. We are all such impatient invalids - expecting a couple of tablets to work miracles.