1 - A Breckland Winter | My Site 28771

A Country Year - A Breckland Winter

January 1st to January 18th

From the Thetford and Watton Times Wandering Will (1895) - How anxiously the doings of King Frost have been watched every day during the week - the temporary abatement of his sway - then during the night his return, and the fantasies on the window that he charms us with. Lovely? No artist in the world can compare with Nature herself, which is a great original of all their inspiration. At last Saturday half-holiday is here, in preparation for which our skates have been ground, our straps oiled, and several discussions taken place as to the most suitable venue for our operations. This place is too small, that is not safe, and at last we decide on one of our breckland lakes - Fowlmere. Few people are in the streets as we pass out of town, for the midday meal claims their interest and attention. The frozen, well-trodden surface of the snow offers a very insecure foothold, and as we go up an incline, we slip first on one side and then on the other: till at last we get, not exactly our "Sea-legs" but our ice-legs." When we get to open country, what exquisite beauty there is on every hand. As a rule, the country in winter bear a desolate aspect, and even its most enthusiastic admirers have to look far and wide before they find what they can really term a beautiful scene. Now, however, there is beauty everywhere, for "rimers" on two successive days, with hardly a breath of air to disturb the pure crystalline covering of the trees and hedges, have left every object "frosted" into a mass of loveliness.

On our right is a plantation of Scotch firs, each evergreen needle-like leaf being brought into prominence by its white top-coating, which all blend harmoniously together into one picturesque whole. We have seen several large flocks of starlings on the horizon, and now one comes nearer, and after several circuitous sweeps alight on a field close by, where each individual commences foraging on his own account, though with frozen iron-bound surface it would seem difficult for them to carry out the policy of "quick-return." A little further on several birds fly quickly across our track and their chattering betrays them as stranger birds - fieldfares and redwings from Scandinavian pine-forests.

These wandering birds possess the land

Our Norseman fathers used to know.

In voice, half quarrel, half command,

They wrangle on, the robber band -

Swift-winged Vikings from the strand

Of ice and winter snow.

Soon they stop and commence feasting on the hawthorns berries on the hedge in front, With reckless prodigality of plenty, they drop more berries on the ground than they eat - in a few weeks time to be carefully searched out and consumed, when their store above has become exhausted. A sharp turning, and soon we are skirting an oak plantation, whilst on every hand we hear the sharp flapping of wings and see restless forms flitting hither and thither - wood pigeons bred amongst the pines of Norway feasting on the acorns. Walking inside the plantation, the dead twigs, relics of wintry gales crackle under our feet, whilst overhead we are enabled to see the many beautiful effects of the rime frost in the garnishing it has given to tree trunks, branches and twigs alike.

Now we are crossing a portion of a breckland, wild under a very different aspect to that with which we are generally acquainted. The white winding-sheet extends as far as the eye can reach, only broken here and there by the base of the evergreen furze which has escaped the feathery mantle. A few yellow blossoms peep through the coverlet.

A Country Year - The Hare

January 1st to January 18th

But what is this curious pattern traceable in the snow? Woven by nature's looms in the shape of the understandings of dozens of rabbits, with occasionally the lazy gallop of a hare, the little footprints, twining in and out, are well worthy of examination.

But here we are at last. Before us are several acres of ice and about a dozen people to enjoy them. Sitting down by the edge of the frozen mere we adjust our skates and soon are speeding, iron-shod, round by the banks. At one end of the mere is the reed-bed, the wild fowls summer time haunt. Now the seared leaves and stalks bow to the wind, whilst now and again, one more resisting than the rest, breaks with a snap and falls on the ice-covered surface of the mere. We skate on till the sun has set and the further end of the mere is obscured in the dusky haze of evening, and then we think it time to turn our steps homewards. After taking off our skates, we have sundry slides on the ice to enable us to regain the use of our pedal extremities.

Walking is a peculiar operation for some little distance, but at length we get used to the unaccustomed method of progression. A bank divides the road from the heathland and we walk on top of this, The bank appears to slope off very gradually with a thin coating of snow, so we step down and find ourselves in a snow drift three feet deep. We blunder on, and at length once more reach firm earth which has not such a superincumbent burden of snow. The dull haze has now obscured everything save our immediate vicinity, and above, Jupiter alone faintly glimmers through the mist. A dark band of cloud obscures the horizon, but the rising moon casts its bright rays higher in the heavens, illuminating a portion of the sky like the Aurora Borealis. Soon the clouds drift apart and leave a broad band on the moon's face exposed, which is of a red-orange colour from the humidity of the atmosphere near the earth's surface. For a few minutes we watch the beautiful effects of the golden-lined shifting clouds, but inwards qualms "as of a man that hungereth" oppress us, and we hasten homewards to relieve them, and thus end this day amongst Frozen Breckland.

From the Norwich Mercury E. Kay Robinson (1902) - In spite of the snow, the antics of the courting hare have provided matter for laughter on any country ramble for weeks past. It is comical enough to see two hares racing along at great speed and then both stopping bolt upright like leaded automats: then off again, and halting again in the same mechanical manner, the distance between pursuer and pursued remaining exactly the same all the while. Their "fights" are even funnier, and they leap at each other like gamecocks; but, as if by mutual consent, miss each other clean, one flying over the other's head with a good foot of space to spare. It is, I suppose, to show his bride how terribly he can leap at an antagonist that the hare, who is suffering from the spring fever of love will, while he is quietly nibbling the clover by her side, suddenly "flip" himself straight up in the air - as a cook tosses a pancake - coming down any side uppermost and quietly recommencing to nibble the clover next his pose.

Main Page