Dear reader...

EVEN IN THE coldest month, there is much to experience in the countryside. So, on a freezing day, I step out into the weak sunlight to enjoy a short walk before the light fades, and the warmth of a fire and a mug of tea drag me back indoors.

January has a stark beauty. Nature’s framework is revealed in trees and bushes devoid of leaves, their intricate network of branches still and lifeless. Despite appearances, a closer look reveals buds patiently waiting for their moment to burst forth.

Following the line of a bramble hedge, the path climbs slowly. I walk with purpose; coat fastened to the top; my warmest hat pulled down as far as it will go. Halfway up the hill, I notice some tiny shapes in the trees. A group of Long-tailed tits bob between the boughs. A cheery little group, they fly in sweeping arcs, effortlessly bouncing from one tree to the next, chattering as they go. Their colours echo the landscape; their tails longer than their bodies. They are a treat to see.

Turning at a giant oak, an area of open ground spreads out before me, and my destination comes into view: a ruin, its bulk standing proudly against the heavy sky. Despite the frost, its stone glows with warmth; the details of intricate carvings and gargoyles picked out by the fading sun.

In summer, this place is full of life, with families enjoying picnics, and children playing hide and seek within the thick walls. Today, in the cold stillness of winter, its beauty takes centre stage; laid bare, just like the trees that surround it. The light is fading now, and it is noticeably colder, but before leaving, I take a moment to stand, wrapped in silence, before the cold becomes too much, and I turn briskly for home. Time for tea…

Rachel Hawkins Editor