There’s an old expression about the cold: ‘It’s cold enough to freeze the knockers off a brass monkey’. Which sounds rude but isn’t (or so the Archaeologist told me once – something to do with how they used to stack the iron cannonballs on board Men’o’war using brass racks – called monkeys. Since iron shrinks in the cold more quickly than brass they would fall through the gaps in extreme cold and, well, you get the picture).
Thus when the temperatures dropped and the pond iced over, I trooped around the garden to see the signs of life.
I’m never sure if I have a favourite season – sometimes these days I wonder if the seasons I used to know as a kid exist any more – but I definitely enjoy winter. Not necessarily the cold, when it’s biting into my neck like a vapourised vampire, but the stark scenery…
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