The first frost

We knew it was coming, the first frost of the season. Overnight the temperature dropped and this morning it is white. A reminder that we are moving towards the cold and ice and possible snow – Samhain is marking the beginning of Winter.  Turnip orange, bronzed and yellow leaves everywhere now. A cool wind finds its way through the doors and walls, hedges and  trees.

George, the cat, stays in. Too cold for a cat he says.

The low mist over the fields and the landscape is just a prelude to the shorter days, the lower light and visibility. Wrens, with  their ginger brown underbellies hop from branch to branch through the brambles and thorn. Blackberries now softened on the stems no longer edible but thorn berries and reships still abound.

A cow and calf in the field, high over my head when seen from the sunken lane give a different perspective while small burrows excavated in the mossy walls  suggest small creatures creating  their winter refuge and leaves falling on stones in the stream’s heart, create art.

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