The cold between Christmas and New Year has yielded to unseasonably mild air. In this afternoon’s drizzle, the pair of Kestrels were sheltering at New Elms Barn, on the brickwork in the corner of the open doorway, heads turned in to one another, like the apex of a roof.
It’s the ledge that was used by the Little Owls, until around a year ago. None at New Elms since some digging was done in the fields around the barn, laying new water pipes I think.
Little at the Stews. I’d been hoping that the freeze might push something odd onto them, but not even a Teal. Today just a Moorhen flapping out of the watercress.
Coming back round to the cricket pitch, the sky to the west was a strange ocean blue, a blend of thin rainclouds and the clear skies behind.