Musical statues

We went for a walk in the fading snow, before the mist came down. You think everything goes into hibernation in the winter, but no. The chickens were alert and searching for rich pickings amongst the icing dribbles of snow around their yard.

The turkey was resplendent in his Sunday best. He stalked nonchalantly around the farm, with that casual ease that only comes when you know you are boss. He certainly looked the part.

We walked with all three boys, though the eldest is embracing his teenage years with aplomb at the moment, and so chose to make a rather solitary style of family walk (that's him in the bottom picture, walking on ahead with I-Pod plugged in, showing what a lone ranger he is).

There was snow, but only spatterings left now. Where the sun rarely reaches, it has been slowly thawing while turning into an ice rink. This was the river path (below). The Little One thought he was ice skating, which meant he laughed rather than whinged.

The best thing of all was seeing the merging of the seasons. Russet autumn leaves still clung stubbornly to clumps of hedgerow, and sat frozen on the ground in suspended animation, waiting for the thaw to continue their mulching again. Snow and ice slowly dripped into the river, and holly ignored the 'fall' to remind of Christmas in their evergreen coats. And, fresh from the call to arms that a mild January gave them, shoots of spring sat chilling amongst the snowfall. I do hope they survive this frostiness and we can get started with the new season. February is such a lovely month - the hope clings like limpets to every frozen branch and twig. It is as thought the trees, hedges and bulbs are holding their breath in a game of musical statues, waiting for the music to start again. They all want a good shake-out, wriggle and boogie. Not long now.