Walking home at eleven : fifteen pm, red velvet coat fastened tightly. Under the watchful gaze of mother moon, I passed the last house on the right (a small fire was ablaze in the garden). The sky was beautifully clear, and stars twinkled down from galaxies afar. I brought a lantern with me to guide the pathway, but I had no need for moonlight was bountiful.
A fox cried out in the distance, (an early spring mating call) and I echoed it with my voice.
When I reached home the rooks were still awake in the pine trees.
Today I took a few moments to enjoy the countryside where I live; to feel grounded. I saw a dozen magpies up to their usual mischief, two felines; poised for fight or play, a field of crows, the usual friendly goats, and birds warbling merrily from their perch on the highest tree branch.
I miss the beauty of winter, I feel as if it has bypassed the south west this year. There was a brief spell, when it rained for days and nights, and the ocean raged with nineteen foot high waves. Wind tore the landscape to pieces. I adore its freezing wrath, the season soothes me like a blanket does a child.
The epitome of winter; frost that lingers on ground, plant and wood, icicles that hang from the cliffs above the beach, frozen streams, the beautiful snow coloured light, leaves crunching underfoot, white fields that stretch for miles, snowflakes falling, a monochrome scenery...