As if to bolt from the cold Icelandic gales,
There are still a few green patches on the fell side,
Where Magpies forage around cattle's straw bales.
A skein of Geese head south for greener country,
For feeding in their barren homeland’s done’
To find a warmer place to spend the winter,
Where the temperature reaches a barmy minus one!
Like sculptured stalactites of glass and crystal,
Thick ice hangs from rocks around the falls,
Only freezing air will flow down here on this day,
Between the mountain brook’s grey stony walls.
A Buzzard finds some comfort on a carcass,
The victim of starvation on the slopes,
She’s joined by a Crow and several weakening Ravens,
These morsels at last bring some survival hopes.
Crossbills prize seeds from cones atop the Pine trees,
Their bills are perfect tools for this small chore,
Many seeds rain down to the damp leaf-litter,
To be gathered by Squirrels from the woodland floor.
The night draws in fast in this cold winter depression,
And seems to lasts an eternity when you’re cold,
For some birds there’ll be comfort as they huddle,
Though for many more their story has been told.
Before the dawn there’ll be an eerie magic,
What once was green will soon become pure white,
As day break reveals a different coloured carpet,
From the one that lay before the dreaded night.
Sunrise brings faint light to the misty morning,
Yet still won’t keep the deathly cold at bay,
Its lowering arc brings darkness ever nearer,
As creatures hope to survive another day.
A drink is hard to find when water freezes,
No food is to be seen above the snow,
Imminent death the only certain outcome,
Unless poor souls are fed and quenched once more.
Long bills cannot penetrate the hard crust on the surface,
To reach the worms below this frozen land,
So flocks of Curlew leave the barren high ground,
For the shore where they can probe the softer sand.
Wintering shore birds nervously keep a look out,
For danger always looms up in the sky,
As Peregrines watch for unsuspecting victims,
Then strike like missiles on any unobserving eye.
Hail and wind makes survival harsh and perilous,
And freezing fog drifts in on every tide,
But soon the days will lengthen and bring with them,
Colourful changes to our countryside.
