Mrs. Kingfisher

A stunning morning walk in a frost rimed world, every tiny tuft of moss and skeleton umbel embellished with a myriad of crystals. The light had a searing purity, enhancing the many colours of winter.

The birds were less fearful than usual, preoccupied with finding food. A song thrush hammering a snail on a limestone anvil, chattering masses of redpolls and siskins in the alder trees, and a mix of tits and finches round the bird-hide feeders. But, most exciting of all - two pairs of kingfishers along the river, flirting and feeding, in preparation for the arrival of spring.