Saturday, 22 December 2007


The rime on the trees at Stony Ridge was about an inch and a half broad this morning. A breeze had just begun to get up and was shaking ice down onto anyone brave enough to pass that way at 7.45 am. A car in the car park echoed with the sound of ice on steel.

Further down the poisoned birch looked haunted with white ghosts of once live trees - not a comforting experience.

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