behind stark leafless branches.
Fresh snow lies aground.
Thursday last week we saw flattened grass appear through thawed holes in greying ice. By Saturday the world became coloured again - never was grass so vividly green or churned mud so chocolate seeming. But with the return of colour, brilliance fled.
And now, a week later, not quite rid of the vestiges of our last icing, we are frosted again. Sodden ground is now frozen stiff (is this an iron frost ?) and snow lies gently like icing sugar, in a light layer. Only a couple of light falls in Dublin, nothing compared to much of the country and the rest of Europe but without any warmth during the short days, it stays.
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| Footprints of a foraging magpie |
And yes, I am dreaming of a white Christmas...
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