Venus was at her most Venusian shortly before dawn this cold and frosty morning, hanging high and bright in the sky above our gate.
A trip to the garden centre for a Christmas tree and a couple of sprigs of mistletoe. You make your own luck is my motto.
A redwing was tugging at an enormous worm under the sycamore as I turned into the drive. My first of the winter. Redwing, I mean, not worm. Actually, come to think of it, both. Gorgeous little winter visitors. Our smallest thrush. Winter isn’t winter until you’ve seen a redwing.
