Clicking her heels together and leaping into the air, Joy, this summer’s fawn rushed off down the hill as I went out to fill the bird feeders.
There she is, on the left.
Grown up now, but still full of joy.
She had been standing close to the house and I spooked her when I opened the door. Damn.
But to see her run and jump is a good start to the day.
There is something invigorating
about a frosty morning.
The blissful silence. Just the sounds of Nature awakening.
Although the “DD” birds were cross that their favourite bush was frost-crusted.
Just one tiny Titmouse perching there.
Apparently the lilac was more accommodating to their tiny feet.
As soon as they saw my camera they swarmed off.
Where can I find a bird-communicator?
They need to know I am a friend!
I like cold weather, but I not especially being cold.
Depending on the circumstances.
If I know that within a reasonable time, I will have the opportunity to warm back up, no problem!
But I have unpleasant memories of hanging around on cold damp train platforms in Britain, when I expected my feet to fall off. As well as my nose and fingers.
Sometimes the train was overheated and you could thaw out, then sit there sweltering and smelling of wet wool that re-froze on arrival.
The problem, then, was that I knew I’d still be freezing when I reached whatever the final destination was!
It was the cold, damp, winters in England that caused my father to seek overseas employment.
You really couldn’t get warm, in those days, unless you sat on top of the fire, and then you got chilblains, which were curable only by “warm weather”. They are itchy lumps that develop on toes and fingers and even legs.
You don’t want chilblains.
Dad never complained of them, so I presume he didn’t get them, but he really did moan about the miserable climate.
So we “went abroad” which is basically why I am where I am today, and this was the best place to be in 2020.
So yes, I like the cold!