December 19th – It may be deepest winter, but along the cycleways and towpaths there are still tenacious hips, haws and berries clinging on to sparse shrubs and trees providing food for songbirds, who seem to be devouring them now with a passion not shown in many a year.

Grandad used to say that if there was a profusion of fruit, it meant a bad winter was in store. I’m not sure about that, but the birds do seem to be stocking up for something this year.

I wonder what they know we don’t?