Winter's still rumbling on and we have a covering of snow once again. Mind you we'd be saying that we have more than a covering were we in Kent, as I gather that Folkestone racecourse (for whose Tuesday meeting we have two entries) is currently under six inches of snow. Our snow fell yesterday morning and, while there wasn't that much of it, it is still with us as the temperature has been hovering at or below zero since then. But at least the sun has been shining some of the time, as this photograph taken at quarter to nine yesterday morning shows.
The snow had actually only just fallen because there hadn't been any at the start of the day, but I'd found myself in mini-blizzard conditions while cantering Ex Con around Bury Hill as it began to get light. All in all, with the mixtures of cloud and sun and of snow and grass, it has made for some spectacular views across the Heath, as we found when we took the next lot out. Sunny one minute, snowing the next, but then we've become very accustomed to our now permanent 'four seasons in one day' climate. Or rather three seasons, summer generally not being represented.
What was rather nice yesterday was seeing the first snowdrops of the year, of which I happened to catch sight, appropriately, poking their heads through the snow on the bit of grass alongside the Catholic church at the end of this road. That's always a heartening sight, allowing one to believe that we might be seeing the beginning of the end of winter. It still seemed very wintery over at Bury crematorium this afternoon when we bade farewell to Fred Rickaby in a very moving service conducted by the racing vicar, Graham Locking. Graham is very good at funerals, invariably giving a religious meaning to the service in a way which, I believe, is accessible also to those of a non-religious persuasion. Fred would have appreciated the service, and also the reception afterwards given by his niece Melanie in her house in Risby. He was a great man and I count myself very fortunate to have enjoyed his friendship in his later years.
The snow had actually only just fallen because there hadn't been any at the start of the day, but I'd found myself in mini-blizzard conditions while cantering Ex Con around Bury Hill as it began to get light. All in all, with the mixtures of cloud and sun and of snow and grass, it has made for some spectacular views across the Heath, as we found when we took the next lot out. Sunny one minute, snowing the next, but then we've become very accustomed to our now permanent 'four seasons in one day' climate. Or rather three seasons, summer generally not being represented.
What was rather nice yesterday was seeing the first snowdrops of the year, of which I happened to catch sight, appropriately, poking their heads through the snow on the bit of grass alongside the Catholic church at the end of this road. That's always a heartening sight, allowing one to believe that we might be seeing the beginning of the end of winter. It still seemed very wintery over at Bury crematorium this afternoon when we bade farewell to Fred Rickaby in a very moving service conducted by the racing vicar, Graham Locking. Graham is very good at funerals, invariably giving a religious meaning to the service in a way which, I believe, is accessible also to those of a non-religious persuasion. Fred would have appreciated the service, and also the reception afterwards given by his niece Melanie in her house in Risby. He was a great man and I count myself very fortunate to have enjoyed his friendship in his later years.
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