1st January. Cold bites and the earth is hard. The pool by the house is frozen fast with thick ice. There are lapwings over the house and blackbirds come to the bird feeder as the ground is too hard to search for worms. Ffion and Debs asked if we would check their horses because they had gone to Ramsey Island for New Year, so we walk across the frozen fields to smash the ice on their water trough, and somehow Larry manages to find the only place in the world where the mud is soft and sinks into a pit of slurry and mud in a field of cows, to emerge the dirtiest dog in the world. A paper boat blows over the ice pool by Penberi, watched by Rosie who licks the stone hard water, confused. And Robin wears my hat to keep his ears warm.

In between all I paint, make bread and venison casserole.

2nd January. Went to the hills, Tom's favorite walking place and found the world was golden and ice covered. Streams that ran down the hillside were silent and thick with ice. The sunshine played on golden grass, the air was clear, sharp and cold. In one place i found water music and a tiny waterfall with ice fingers dipping in a dark pool. We saw snipe and buzzard, ravens and a kite as well as redwing and fieldfare. On the way home called in at the butchers in Newport to stock up on pheasant and venison and bought rabbits for Tom to cook in cider. Outside the butchers a sign encouraged customers to order early for Christmas, so I tried, but they seemed to think January 2nd was a little too early! And around walking in the hills squeezed in some painting.

5th January. In the garden broken snail shells decorate the path and stones, brittle remnants of feasts for blackbirds. At the beach in the evening the dogs throw long shadows.

6th January. The day has been full of birds and the sound of feathers. On the way up the hill with the cats a peregrine put up a field full of redwing and fieldfare. In the shelter of the green lane they did not see us, so swooped so low overhead to escape the ruthless hunter. So many birds, plover and lapwing, small waders on the beach and the fieldfare and redwing, all seeking shelter from the cold. And outside the blackbirds flock to the bird feeder as the earth is still hard from frost. In the garden I photograph pheasants in the hope of finding time to paint them on gold leaf. Meanwhile I continue to work on Starlight and hope by February to be finished.