Pulborough Brooks, West Sussex, Friday 16th December 2022
I arrived at Pulborough Brooks as the sun began to rise over Wiggonholt, the heath on the hill.
There are five pine trees that stand together in the open heath, I always seek them out in this light.
Frost encrusted everything where the sun was yet to reach. Young birches were thick with hoar frost, the yellow leaves of oaks held an edge of ice flakes.
There was little to hear, so much so that even a goldcrest moving through brambles made a sound.
Further round the hill the Highland Cattle were grazing among the frozen bracken. They looked so at home in their Viking get-up, heavy coats whitened by the temperatures. At 8am it was -5.
Out onto the reserve a winter landscape opened out: rock-hard fields with a herd of deer making a break for it; frozen ponds and lakes without ducks and wading birds; and in the distance the South Downs almost hidden by a rising mist.
Thanks for reading.
Recent posts:
Arun valley oaks around Billingshurst
A long ramble (in both senses) around the oaken landscapes of Billingshurst, including the Wey & Arun Canal
Along the South Downs from Washington to Bramber
This is a long post with a lot of South Downs history in it. There’s history here you can touch that dates back over 1000 years.
Fool’s Wood – my third poetry collection
Fool’s Wood is my third collection afterĀ I am living with the animals (2014), and Sumptuous beasts (2018).
Unlocking Landscapes 
That’s a lovely light!