Winter Continues.

Ever since the weather turned full zero, by which I mean that the temperature is staying below freezing even during the day, my garden has become a refugee camp for the local birds. Every morning when I go out with food, they’re perched in battalions on greenhouse, hedgerow and shrub, waiting and watching. And the amount of food that usually lasts two hours is gone in about fifteen minutes. I had to buy double rations of oats in the supermarket today. British garden birds seem to favour porridge oats above all else when the weather gets this cold.

Meanwhile, The Shire looks a bit like a Christmas cake. The tree branches have been heavily laden with thick hoar frost all day; and even I, hater of winter that I am, can’t fail to be impressed by the beauty.