Country diary: In the bleak midwinter, the hedgerow waits for warmer days

A long-tailed tit. ‘Could there be a more heartening end to a year, than to be surrounded by these hyperactive balls of fluffy pink, grey, black and white feathers? Photograph: Phil Gates

The annual ride on the ferris wheel of the seasons was approaching its lowest point: the winter solstice, the shortest day. Dank preceding days of fog, relentless rain, mud and dawn-to-dusk grey skies brought the temptation to curl up on the sofa and enjoy nature vicariously through the pages of a good book.

But then a north-westerly Arctic wind delivered today’s crystalline frost, frozen puddles and blue skies. A shivering, brisk-walking sort of day, until a small flock of birds had me frozen to the spot. Long-tailed tits, a dozen or more, bounding along the hedgerow in my direction. A troupe of avian acrobats, searching every twig for food morsels, never still for a second, like excited schoolchildren on a class outing.