Poke Pudding

The BBC told me it would feel like -6°C today, but I assumed I knew better and decided to go for a run in the snow, which was very unpleasant and gave me a headache. I did, however, find a redshank pottering about in the weeds, and the lake looked very beautiful as it started to freeze over. A coot tried to land in the water and slid over an ice float (amusing).

On returning to the warmth of the flat, I spent the rest of the day wrapped in jumpers, writing about rivers and listening to a favourite Poirot (Cat Among the Pigeons). The day was interspersed with lovely snow flurries, and between them I watched the birds seek shelter in our tree. The long-tailed tits were hanging about, also known by the folk name of ‘poke puddings’ due to their round little bodies, and they are usually so wriggly I find it impossible to take their photo. But today, with the poor weather, I managed to catch this one clinging to a budding twig. Hurry up, spring!



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