A weekend of frosts and blue skies bringing the constant overhead clamour of geese and swans and the smell of wood or peat smoke as one passes houses. The first real frost of the season iced over the puddles, renewing Rufus' fascination with breaking the ice and sliding about on puddles.
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| Frost crystals icing willowherb leaves. |
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| The resident starling population has now been boosted by winter migrants from the continent, behind Phingask and Sandhaven in particular, they congregate on noisily on telegraph wires, shape shift as they move down to pick over seaweed on the shore and retreat to their evening roosts at the boatyard. |
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| Sunshine on almost leafless sycamores at Peathill |
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| An unexpected splash of colour on these nasturtiums growing in the frost free shelter of a shed at Merryhillock |
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