The World this Morning...

Some pictures of snow-shrouded trees, just because. (Taken on the way to Seven Sisters Underground this morning.)

It seems to have Stopped Snowing....

Two views from the rear of our house, taken just after midnight on 21 January.





While, inside, Judith continues to work on the fiendishly difficult jigsaw of a red squirrel that I bought in the National Trust shop on Brownsea Island last summer....

It's Still Snowing....

Not that it's actually visible in this photograph, so you'll just have to take my word for it...

Eight Hours of Snowfall

It began snowing shortly before 9.00am this morning, and hasn't stopped since. It's getting dark now, but before it became too dark I went out and took these pictures -- of, in order, our front garden from just outside the front door; our house, at the bottom of Jansons Road; another view of Jansons Road; and the Maysie Memorial Garden (founded and maintained by Judith) at the top of the road.

The State of The Pond

There may just possibly be a frog or two lurking in this. (Some of them do overwinter at the bottom -- others bury themselves in the log pile.

A Bird in The Garden

Perched on a branch of on of our apple trees, this chaffich, in its winter plumage. Out of shot to the left is the seed feeder which it had been eating from -- the scuffing away of the snow from below the feeder port is the give-away.

Snow, Sunday Morning

Two views from the bderoom window, taken just a few minutes ago. A light snow was falling -- and is continuing to fall as I write -- although the snowflakes don't actually show up in the photographs (chiz chiz).

The Allotment in Winter

As you may have heard, we've had a bit of snow over the past few days, which has (as usual) brought the country to a grinding halt. (Albeit not quite as halted as during the Big Freeze of 1963, caused by a Siberian anticyclone which sat over us for the first two months of the year. I remember it well; and this afternoon the BBC screened an old black-and-white documentary about its effects from its archives, made and first shown when the Freeze was still in progress. It featured a hand-drawn global weather map showing what I suspect may have been the first appearance on British television of an El Nino event, although at the time no one knew what it was or how it could affect the weather on the other side of the world.) So of course we had to go to the allotment to check that things were all right, to replenish the bird feedery there, and to take a few photographs. In order, these show the frozen surface of the pond with its covering of snow (compare it with the photograph posted on 24 December 2012 to see how, in the absence of rain, the water has fallen back to its normal level); a general overview of the allotment from outside the shed; the foot-prints left by (presumably) a fox alongside what appear to be those of a small child; and, just for contrast, some catkins on a willow tree near the entrance to the site (with Judith's gloved hand as a guide to their size). Willow catkins, at this time of year? Indeed; but until the temperatures fell just a few days ago, it has been a very mild winter, which has doubtless fooled parts of the natural world into thinking that it's already spring. It will be interesting to see, next time we visit, whether they've shrivelled and dropped off.









(The birds at the allotment were obviously pleased to have their feedery replenished: there was a sudden upsurge in the volume of their twittering as I put out a new fat bar and hung up the refilled seed feeder. By contrast, the birds which normally visit our garden have utterly vanished -- not at all the sort of behaviour to be expected when the weather turns colder and natural food is harder to find. Judith first suggested that this might be due to the mildness of the winter hitherto, as mentioned above; but even in mild winters small birds flock to our garden for the seed and other treats we hang up. Then we noticed that the thick covering of ivy along the fence of one of the gardens which backs onto ours had been cut right back, thus depriving small birds of the nearby cover they need when venturing into the open. As a consequence, all we've seen in our garden since the middle of December have been a few blackbirds and robins, neither of which are seed eaters. The sparrows, tits, chaffinches, goldfinches and even the wren which used to visit have obviously gone elsewhere. Thanks a bunch, uncaring ivy-cutting neighbour!)