Have you read Katherine May’s ‘Wintering – the power of rest and retreat at difficult times”? She writes:

“I walk in the late January frost, and I realise that I am a wolf today. I had already been overcome by the need to prowl: to go outside and stalk about my territory, restless and wary. There is an unrest in my gut that feels like hunger.”

I won’t be sad to see the back of January this year. It’s been a dark and dreary month full of fog and cloud, sleet and snow, ice and rain. It’s been the sort of weather to keep me indoors even though I’m also overcome by the need to prowl.

I remembered the other day why I like to walk…..from flat, miserable, dark mood, a few steps, a wet path, a rushing river can turn my mood to hopefulness.

The icy, muddy green water of the Mellerstain Lake on a dark dank cold and misty morning, the bright green new growth of the snowdrops, daffodils and butterbur plants poking their heads above the dark soil and the yellow catkins hanging delicately from their branch reset my day.

The frost on the ferns, the swans on the iced over lake and the heron taking off through the bare trees, all the noticings, all the happenings that can’t be seen in Spring or Summer when leaves and trees and lush green growth block the view. The best of Winter despite the biting cold and wet,slippy mud.

As the month ends I took a late afternoon walk in a sudden light and bright spell after an especially dark day – so glad I did. A blue periwinkle flower has appeared, I saw a hare scampering over the field and as I walked down the lane and around the corner the little flock of Herdwickes hurried to the field edge and followed along keeping me in their sights – in case I had food I expect. As we stood either side of the field gate, contemplating each other, listening to the buzzards screeching overhead, a beautiful white barn owl swooped down the hill and over our heads startling us all. Barn owls are so mesmerising, I watched it glide across the field and up the hill towards the farm waiting for ages in case it came back – but it didn’t.

It’s a full moon this weekend as we leap into February – called a Snow Moon because February is supposed to be full of snow. In the garden as well as the snowdrops, the tulips are already showing their leaves, the hellebores are looking amazing and the primroses are hanging in there. There are catkins on the corkscrew hazel and buds on the climbing hydrangea.