A seasoned farmer told me recently that he doesn’t truly consider winter to have begun until late December at least. Though wary of his predisposition to proclaim, usually with contrasuggestible intent, I’m beginning to think he has a point.
The monotony of mild, wet conditions during the summer, through the autumn and on into this new year have blurred three seasons into one. Our hedges remain uncut because the ground is inaccessible and I hear anecdotes of winter wheat sown not twice but three times now due to still-active slugs.
