Snow brings fun and games to all, with days full of good cheer
A cold white canvass stretching out, friendly crisp and clear
Ice is hard and treacherous, with ruin it paves the ground
No icy path is safe to travel, all journeys are unsound
These cousins lie now hand in hand, the white beside the black
Wherever you go, please tread with care or you’ll end up on your back.
The roads up to the park today were covered with black ice. I had to trace a path across the relative safety of scattered snowdrifts in order to make my way up. Eventually, I made it to the Woodlands, which are something of a microclimate. The paths here had not iced over.
The cold weather has savaged several of our plant residents, with Daffodils, Hartstongue Fern and ironically the Winter Heliotrope all withered and forlorn. Interestingly, the Woodland’s small resident Bamboo population seems to be coping fine with the weather. I swear that stuff is invincible.
One benefit of the snowfall is that it’s easy to find animal tracks. I came across Roe Deer, Fox and Badger tracks through my journey. Bird life was again subdued, though I did spy a puffed up Robin insulating itself against the cold, as well as a Blue Tit and a few Blackbirds.
Passing the Small Copse, the crunch of my footsteps echoed through the small patch of trees, though not loud enough to drown out the sound of a Chaffinch, singing out from an unseen location. The Hawthorns here were encrusted with transparent ice, some supporting small icicles. I’ve seen this beautiful phenomenon once before on a trip to Shoulsbury Castle with my father and brother. The weather was pretty atrocious that day too.
I continued on to the Downlands where I caught the powerful easterly wind full in the face. The snow here had been polished into a slippery icy crust, and I had to stomp down hard to crack through it for solid footing amid the Tor Grass beneath.
Navigating the Clifftops beside the lighthouse was a nerve wracking experience. The rocky path was completely iced over and this, combined with the high wind was a recipe for disaster. I went over twice on my journey, scrabbling for purchase as the cliff top loomed uncomfortably close. After the second spill I decided to take a different, less icy route to Tilly Whim. If you go out today folks, be very careful.
Today the Clifftops belonged to the Herring Gulls and the Greater Black Backed Gulls, the only creatures out in any significant numbers. Even the Jackdaws had largely retired, and I counted less than six. Even the wildlife thinks it's a good idea to stay in.