Thin wisps of freezing fog drift across the fields as we head out of the gate on our first walk of the day. Winter has arrived. Sophie is rather surprised by how cold the ground is . The electrifying shock to her paw pads means we head off at a surprisingly brisk pace.
We're early and the street lights are still blazing away. To cut costs they come on at six thirty and go off an hour later. For a village of 67 souls we have a lot of street lights. The old mayor was a great believer in electrification. He started with three lights on the village green in 1983 and then every year after he would add another one. After 38 years of street light investment we resemble a provincial Coney Island. It's quite probable that on a ratio of street lights to population we are right up there. The new mayor doesn't seem to have the same passion for public works. In fact we're hard pressed to think what the village might be spending money on other than neutering C-A-T-S.
On our way back up the hill Sophie has one of her panic ! panic !! panic !!! moments. She's been sniffing something delectable in the grass verges and has looked up only to find that Angus is two hundred yards down the lane. She chases after me with great determination. I get given the ' How could you leave such a poor maiden so ?' look.
A French take - with perfect diction - on an English carol:https://youtu.be/s1BPxZombgw?list=RD2fmAIQSUkgQ&t=86