Monday dawned with the land covered in a deep white frost. I waited for the sun to heat the air before Old Dog and I ventured out for a walk. These days, as he becomes slower, we wander more than walk.
Out on the heath, Jennie`s tree, the old wilding crab apple with deep red fruit, held just a few tiny apples on its bare branches. One had fallen to the grass beneath.
Fronds of lichen on its twigs and branches.
Old Dog, looking frail, enjoyed a sniff at the frosty bracken. A few moments later he was walking with a brisk step along the path, with his tail in the air and a keen, alert expression on his face.
....a wilding apple that produces bright green fruit enjoyed by Forest cattle.........
... and a lichen covered ash.
One of the wilding trees that produces the loveliest blossom, at the foot of the hill where oak, beech, silver birch and holly grow beside the old coaching lane.
Frost on oak leaves in a dried-up, shaded puddle.
Cattle had passed by in the night.
Along the lane, a log remained from a tree that fell in recent gales..........
....and the understory of the woods was littered with snapped branches after high winds.
Old Dog looked out for a Jack Russell terrier who lives in a cottage that we pass. His friend was not at home.
Oak buds against a cold blue sky...........
....and catkins in a garden, bringing hopes of spring.