It’s definitely a day for staying indoors. We woke to the forecast snow with the unusually bright light peaking in past our curtains. The light was from the snow on the ground and trees rather than the sun as that was obscured by a heavy and dripping fog cloaking the land.

The snow itself, the second fall of the winter (we missed the first while we were in Ecuador), wasn’t that lovely crisp white snow that squeakily crunches as you walk through it but that nasty wet and slushy snow that mixes with mud and turns to chilling puddles far too quickly.

The weather is bleak and so is the day, the last of a lovely Christmas break that unusually has lasted two whole weeks. We have taken down all the decorations and put them away in the loft for the next 11 months and my mind is turning to work once again.

I couldn’t stay locked up inside all day, despite how cosy it would be to do so. I ventured out to look for birds at a nearby reservoir to add to my, so far, very short list for the year. There is a White-fronted Goose about, mixed in with a flock of Greylags but it and they were not visible. Down by the water’s edge, I could see very little due to the blanket of fog but a small party of male Goldeye floated past and there were Mute Swans, Gadwall, Tufted Duck and Moorhen to add to the year’s tally.

The atmosphere by the water typified the bleakness of the day. Almost silent, the only sounds were the drips from the trees, an occasional subdued quack and the far off chime of a church bell, almost muffled by the cloud. The fog left a monochrome vision of the reservoir, nothing in the winter scene to add any colour, even the birds were black, white or grey.

Now for a warm and cosy evening indoors with a log fire, soft lighting and, maybe, a dram to round off the holiday.