A gentle evening stroll through the village close to my home revealed to me the onset of the festivities. Gardens and homes are already decorated with led lighting and ornaments. A glance in the window of shops shows the seasonal displays and adverts. The footpaths tended to draw most of my attention due to their ice, in many places they prove to be quite difficult.
I was relieved to be back out in the fields and woodlands later that evening. The ground seems to be so much easier to walk on and allowed my gaze to be lifted. I took a moment to look upwards as I passed along a small hedgerow. In amongst the hawthorn and blackthorn is an aging oak tree, its branches are bare leaving it standing skeletal on a still night of a new moon. Within its form I could seem the stars sitting like jewels in the branches. The new moon is not generally renown for its dramatic sights, but this was magnificent. The magnitude of the slumbering stillness of the oak with the vast distances and lights within the sky overwhelmed the mind for a moment. This was natures seasonal decoration in the garden of rural England and it was my honour to be the one to see it.