Janey...
A cold salt-wind from the northwest will blacken the tops of any plant that dares peer above the fence
Jane...
It's full moon. An eerie echo hums round the harbour, strummed by the wind on fishing boat ropes.
Helen...
So many colours in the sky and pillowy clouds are deceptively soft and still. But ah, that bite in the air!
Kit...
Late evening. Several degrees below zero. That owl again. A crow outlined on a high bare branch. In the blue-black dome of night, frost stars glint.
Beverley...
The golden beech hedges shudder in the cold rain; the evergreens stand stalwart and true.
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