Frosty Morning

“A year from now, you will wish you had started today.” 
Karen Lamb

So starts another year, refreshingly cold and frosty. As I head down into the valley it gets even colder by degrees as I approach the canal, with plenty of white frosting around to trim the landscape for the New Year. Almost as soon as I begin my canalside walk the birdlife sneaks out of hiding. A buzzard weaves around the tree-tops, harried by crows - not enough for a murder apparently. Then a solitary song thrush hops out of the hedgerow to feed, and back in again as a charm of goldfinches passes through the bare trees overhead. There are the usual suspects of course, robins, sparrows and great tits; then I was pleasantly surprised to see a Jay (I heard it's grating call first of course) high in the oak on the far canal bank, maybe competing with the squirrels for left-over acorns. The water is frozen over, making occasional cracking noises as mallard and moorhen break through at the edges - quite comical to see them "walking" through the thin crust. A wren scolds from the undergrowth on the far bank, obviously doesn't like the look of me, fortunately there's a more disinterested nuthatch making its' way along the trunk of the tree, turning occasionally to give a glimpse of its black eye stripe and chestnut undercarriage. On my return a heron flapped lazily as it rose in the sky, moving off to quieter hunting grounds. On reflection I was really surprised by the diversity of the birdlife, I wasn't really going in search of them today, they just sort of took over the focus of the walk.