The day is very still. At eight o’clock light was beginning to spread in the sky: pink toward a brightening white. Below the gentle sky lay the mist deepening into the trees and fields. The temperature for nearby Curgy is -7, and here it was recorded in my new meteo link perched on a pole in the garden records it as -4. I wonder how often in my life I have been in weather as cold?
In our stone-walled kitchen the wood-burning stove does its stuff. Inside all feels fine at 18 – 20 degrees. I’ll need to go out to the barn shortly to collect fuel from the pile of cut wood, to keep the stove burning. So long as the stove holds up – and why shouldn’t it? – we’ll be fine, as the temperature stays below freezing.
And now, at nine o’clock, the sun is coming up on the other side of the house. In the valley below us the sun-light comes over the house. It shines on the winter-bare the trees, lighting up their distant branches. The woods are a strange muted yellow between us and the mist which shrouds the hills and fields beyond.
The temperature on the garden meteo is recorded as -5.