Fallen trees lie tangled along the river-course.
The forest is under snow creating sharp contrast. Black and white. Some secretive animal has left it’s tracks along the length of the tree trunks using them as a bridge from one side of the icy waters to the other.
Standing still in the Great Outdoors, hands numb, drawing, has it’s astonishing surprises – a tiny wren works it’s way along the wooden barrier in front of me picking out grubs and insect eggs until it is within easy touching distance and I can marvel at the texture and colours of it’s feathers when suddenly it sees me and makes off noisily into the undergrowth.
A moment later, and just as suddenly, a black flash against the snow-white far bank catches my eye. It cannot be anything other than mink slipping into the cold waters below diving in between rocks, restlessly searching, working it’s way upriver, oblivious to my presence.
Even if I hadn’t made any drawings it would still be counted as a successful day.