After the very spring-like weekend, it was almost inevitable that winter would show its teeth again. Snow yesterday, but today deep, penetrating frost, producing a magical landscape for those of us out and about just after sunrise.

Whether a shimmering cloak on the ground or the filigree fingers of frost entwining and embracing the dormant vegetation, such mornings are a delight  and inspiration for any photographer.

And never despair, the signs of spring are still there. Birdsong, triggered more by day length than temperature, is swelling by the day. Around Ferry Marsh, Great Tits and Dunnocks really going for it, to a backdrop of distant Skylark, and our newest resident a Cetti’s Warbler exclaiming his almost angry song, unseen, deep in the scrubby reeds. But a second bird, silent save for a guttural croak, moving through the hedge-line, and showing itself surprisingly well: could that have been a female, searching for a nest site?