Dear reader...

ALTHOUGH MANY OF us dream of a white Christmas, it is far more likely that snow will fall in January. While the last remnants of warmth held in the sea around this island keep the icy weather largely at bay in December, in January the cold prevails, and winter lays its frosty hand upon the ground.

There is something magical about waking up to the sight of a sparkling white blanket spread across the countryside; its frozen visit provoking the warmest of reactions. A child’s joy at the prospect of playing in the snow is unparalleled: that it is such a fleeting visitor makes that moment all the more poignant.

On one such glistening morning, a silence has descended; the snow muffling everyday sounds. I need to visit the shop: there is no milk, and I cannot begin the day without tea. Of course, snow comes with its own particular perils, so, taking careful steps, I set out. A family have already built a snowman by the side of the pond. The children are laughing because having put bird seed on their icy friend’s head, a group of starlings have now descended to squabble over the gift. Ducks cackle on the frozen water behind, as if they, too, are laughing at the competing birds.

Milk collected, I make my way home. I have enjoyed my short expedition, but I think I will retreat to the warmth of the kitchen and view the icy scene in the company of a steaming cuppa and some hot buttered toast.