A necklace of frost.

Minus 14 this morning and frost on the inside of my bedroom window.

Every blade of grass and every dead flower stalk brave enough to peep above the blanket of snow has grown a crystal necklace.

The deep snow muffles the distant sound of traffic, accentuating the sounds of nature.
The Red Kites whistle to each other as they circle lazily above the sheep on the hill.
A woodpecker drumming loudly echoes through Oaken Grove causing a Muntjak to bark.
The yaffling laugh in response from the drummer, sounds mocking as he flies off to a different tree.

There are tracks everywhere and the dog's nose is working overtime snuffling in the snow. She follows the fox, a single row of paw prints with the tell tale mark where his brush has gently dragged in the snow.

The rabbit's tracks made first by two little front paw prints, and then the hind legs reaching forwards and planted powerfully to each side of the first.

The muntjak, when startled, springs along with all his hooves landing in the same spot as if trying to disguise the fact he has 4 legs.

Home now for coffee and porridge for breakfast.