January has started with a countrywide chill. After several days of hard frost, there was a sprinkling of snow overnight whitening the tracks and paths in Brede High Woods.
On this very cold morning there were more walkers than usual, drawn to see what is now a comparatively rare weather event in South East England.
Deeper in the woods Brede High Pond had a covering of ice, though much more cold would be needed to freeze it hard enough for skating. The scene below reminded me of Keats's lines from La Belle Dame Sans Merci: The sedge has wither'd from the lake/And no birds sing.
Despite the grey and the cold, some places remain surprisingly colourful. Here the wet bracken shone bright brown in contrast with green brambles and patches of snow.
