Country diary: Frost covers anything that can support its feathery weight | Ed Douglas

Blacka Moor, South Yorkshire: Four hundred human generations have inhabited this corner of the English uplands; I bet every one has marvelled at these sightsThe ground was so white that you'd swear it had snowed overnight. Around us every frond of bracken and sprig of heather shone, while the birch trees were dusted into spectral shrouds.It was the path underfoot that gave the game away. The black earth revealed how the passage of feet printed into gloop days before was now frozen iron-hard, so that a misplaced step might prompt a stumble. There had been no snow after all, just a clear night that had teased water from the air into labyrinthine patterns of hoarfrost that now encased any structure that could support its feathery weight. Continue reading...