Glorious but harsh wintery walk in the countryside mid January and the familiar but rare sight of frozen bushes, wild plants and seed heads that I'd not seen since bitter winters of my childhood. Icicles hanging from weeds in the field edges. Glorious to witness, biting winds and the air so cold it felt like knives being hurled at the back of your throat upon each breath! Not a bugger in sight, no surprise really! Determined to take it all in I was out for as long as I could handle.
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| The old lane up to Quickswood from Baldock airfield |
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