When frost grips the garden

A lovely fresh cold morning and as the sun rose in the cold air it was time to wander out with the hounds. Monty and Jasmine love the still air, their noses go crazy at these times, tails up, heads down, checking out what’s new or what has been prowling and leaving scent in the garden at night. Looked like a morning to bring the camera and do some cold macro photos

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It was a great morning to relax, walk around and take a look at the small things in life around. The flowers, even this late in the year, trying so hard to resist. The oranges, reds and colours galore of fully fledged blooms crystalised with ice, desperately waiting for the sun. The grass and clovers, that Monty was delving into, stood frozen and strong as ever. The low sun making great shades as it started to shine down.

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And beyond that new life was still trying to grow. Heads of flowers that have simply left it too late to come out. Colours peeping through and blocked by the ice forming a little wall on their progress. I only had to look behind me to see the first snows on the Pennines to know they wouldn’t get much further. You never know though, a final flourish after the thaw.

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After a good circuit over the fields we wandered back home and with feeling warmed up it was a lovely morning to catch a good strong cup of coffee on the front step. The frost starting to melt and steam rising from the front gate.

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It is coming to my favourite time of year I thought. A great time to be in the hills and mountains of North England. The mass tourism has left to give a calm peace to the scenes, where you never have to walk far to be alone with nature. Snow starts covering the mountain tops and some great cold fresh air.. Time for BaldHiker to get his boots back on more again me thinks… se you out there! ๐Ÿ˜€

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Written by Paul Steele

Paul is the founder and Editor of the site. An avid hiker and trekker. Travel, adventure and photography are passions that he combines to make his articles here. Likes to see the positive in everything.


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