This fine fellow started it. He came to our garden and swapped a crumb for a song (as the bard said - follow this link to hear Telling The Bees beautiful song 'Blackbird')
He flew at Hedge Sparrows,
Even Song Thrushes, a bird as big as he, were not safe from his attacks.
He was busy for a good while, defending the crumbs against all comers.
Some engaged him in dance after dance, playing here we go round the mulberry bush between spats.
He took up a 'Position of Power' underneath the sage bush, his feathers all fluffed up against the cold.
When any other bird strayed near HIS crumbs he was straight at them. Fanning his tail out and puffing himself up, partly against the cold, but partly perhaps to show what an impressive opponent he was.
Fluffed-up and spread out seemed to be a popular stance. There were those brazen enough to risk the blackbird's ire. They came in twos and threes, so someone always got a peck or two while the others provided the distraction.
Some others took up 'Positions of Power' too! This robin sitting on a snow hillock to emphasise his momentary dominion over the field.
I don't suppose the robin's really were working together, but you never know. When the blackbird gave up, just too cold to stay put any longer, they started fighting each other for the crumbs. And we went for a walk.
Out of the gate, past the battle field.
We walked along the tractor tyre path
Because it's so much less slippy, and frankly, none of us are getting any younger!
Although not all of us always act our age.
We went past frozen wonders,
Past the garden, now straight out of Narnia and no longer looking like something that needs some urgent weeding. The magics of snow are many!
Across the starkly beautiful fields,
To 'The View'.
From here we can see Hound Tor,
Bowerman's Nose and Hay Tor too, but I didn't photograph those. And wild and beautiful land, both farms and moorland, that stretches out in every direction. On a clear day you can see the sea. Not today.
It is my wish for myself that I will remember have snow days even when it isn't snowing. To feel the spaciousness of 'nothing too pressing to do', to know that there are few things in this life that really need to be done BEFORE you have a cup of tea, or look at the birds, or listen to their songs, or remember that you are part of all of this - an indivisibly interwoven facet of Nature, as truly as any blackbird or berry.
I wish it for you too.