There was a really hard frost last night and I go early to the Glen to catch it before the sun does. The Mossy microcosms show their boundary layer where the warmth has been trapped around them, frost reaching only to the upper limits, the old oak stump is witness to the play of white all about, I can’t resist a few jumps into ice puddles shattering the mirror of their surfaces and casting gems of ice. Footprints left by canine and human mammals are solidified in the mud that once squelched under their bare and booted feet, the frost makes stages of the Fleischmann residences, oyster mushroom is in tune with its winter element, growth has been triggered since the turn of the shortest day and is now budding in the laurels.
Later I go again to meet L it’s midday and the frost has almost gone, there are still icicles hanging in the river and the cold damp air hangs in the valley. We meet the retired politician and he shows me where the practice trenches were, pointing over to the Resource Centre, in the lee of the Barracks where there are now housing estates, I wonder if my house is built on top of these old playgrounds. He advises us to check the Military Museum in what used to be Victoria Barracks in the days of the trench making and is now Collins.