You might not think this was taken in colour, so fast fell the snow, until you spot the bird feeding on the bird-table - taken through a somewhat dirty double-glazed window.
We awoke to a light dusting of snow, knowing that more was forecast. Gradually, as the light grew, a few light flakes, like gessoed drizzle. Birds approached the bird-table: robin, chaffinches, tits - great-, coal- and blue-, then a flock of greenfinches. And almost unawares as I de-cluttered our kitchen shelves, a thrush: not one but two, chasing each other off. At first, he - I assume it was a he, ATE snow, sitting low within an evergreen shrub.
Snow-crystals descending in a whirl as, imperceptibly, the dusting became a frozen deluge, a white wonder. And the thrush moved under the shelter of an overhanging box-bush, gorging on the red berries of Cotoneaster horizontalis. Suddenly he is on the bird-table, attacking the suet fat-ball; he feeds for a whole half-hour, defending the territory against all comers. Unusual behaviour, this; and both birds feed, taking turns - differentiated by the slightly different markings on their breast.
The snow continues to fall all day, a soft white blanket, ever-deepening as the hours proceed. Everywhere so perfectly quiet; and best of all, the sound of silence; nothing is moving, only the hungry birds outside our kitchen window, and me, photographing them through the window.