Brilliant sunshine to accompany the very chilly conditions, underfoot the leaves of the grasses crunched as I walked on it, my footprints left behind as a compacted white shape.
The frost hardest on the meadows, where a Blackbird was singing, repeating sections of its song, a lovely sound.
Appearing out of the hedgerow, from between the Elder and the Blackthorn, was a Fox. The orange glow of the sun highlighting beautifully the rusty coat, as the Fox trotted fairly slowly ahead of me its large white brush on its tail was wafting in the air.
A sprinkling of Goldfinches descended onto the twigs of the Ash tree, constantly twittering to each other as they perched, a lovely sight against the blue sky.
Along the entrance road a few snuffle marks on the ground, indications of a Badger wandering along, and the pale pink berries of the Japanese Spindle continuing to emerge.
From the Field Maple a Wren was blurting noisily, a sudden trill, then silence, then another blast.
Gorgeous along the cliffs where the Jackdaws were tumbling and cackling (just as the etched glass interpretation panels show), while a single Great Black-backed Gull stood on a rock ledge.
No Guillemots in today, instead a Herring Gull strutting along the ledge, and taking flight just above a Rock Pipit, making a quick squeak of a call.
Towards the gully, where a Meadow Pipit took off, landing again a few tufts of Tor Grass further along, allowing me a reasonable look at my second Pipit of the day.
As I studied this bird, a slight movement in the corner of my binoculars vision, and a Roe Deer was standing gazing down towards me. Their fur has now turned a duller brown, blending in better with the colours of the winter.
Curled up on the ground a furry finger sized Fox Moth caterpillar, covered in long black and brown hairs.