Tuesday 5 February 2008

A winter walk


The wind has dropped but clear skies overnight mean that the air carries a sharp chill and my breath clouds as I exhale. It is a fine day for a walk; the quality of the light, filtered through a brilliant blue sky, reveals every fold in the landscape and the bare limbs and branches of trees stand strong in silhouette. Crossing fields of grazed pasture, bordered by old hedgerows and occasional twisted oaks, my passing is heralded by a pair of Egyptian geese – soon to be nesting in a suitably large cavity. A flock of fieldfares, perhaps three dozen strong, chatters quietly as it moves across the short turf in search of invertebrate prey. There has been just the merest touch of frost, so the fieldfares should still be able to probe the ground.

Leaving the farmland behind I enter an area of clear fell. Now in their second year of growth, the young conifers can be seen fighting their way up through the early successional plants quick to exploit the bare soil. As I cross diagonally through the regimented lines I disturb a roe deer – a buck in his thick winter coat. He moves away but then turns to watch me, inquisitive but alert. This seems to be a feature of the roe. This buck is in velvet, his antlers sheathed in blood-rich tissue which will remain in place through into March. In adult males this annual cycle of renewal begins late in the year (from October) but starts somewhat later in young bucks. With his curiosity satisfied the roe moves off and I am alone again, save for the solitary crow that sits calling from an isolated beech.

A little further on, and warmed by my exertions and the strengthening sun, I catch sight of a kestrel. It passes low over the trees in a neighbouring block of plantation before dipping down to work one of the snag lines of twisted root plates left in place when the last block of timber was harvested. The kestrel flushes a flock of 40 or so goldfinches but seems to take no interest in them. The goldfinches rise as one to perch in a nearby birch, their delicate calls resonant like tiny chimes. It is not that often that I see so many goldfinches together and they add a splash of colour to the brown and russet tones of the forest backdrop.

It is on mornings such as this that I really appreciate being out doors in the Norfolk landscape. It may be winter but it is a fine and bright winter, with enough of the sun’s warmth creeping through to suggest that spring is not that far away.

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