Waxwing Winter

 

February was the soul’s month, the month of whispered hopes where we turned our expectant faces towards the promises of the warmer months to come. But first, we welcomed the month with a yellow warning from the Met Office of 70 mph winds over Warwickshire. The icy conditions of January had made way for strong winds and heavy downpours. Then flurries of snow arrived as temperatures began to plunged. Still, no snowman as the white stuff refused to settle in Coventry.

But whatever the weather, we zipped up warm and ventured out. First on our list, was renewing our membership with the Warwickshire Wildlife Trust. We waited for a break in the weather to check out what the natives were up to and whether they still remembered us. We’d a lovely surprise when we saw this handsome fella sunbathing on Goose Island.

The male Goosander was striking with a clean white body, dark green head and a slender, serrated red bill. We looked around for the elegant grey-bodied female with rich, cinnamon head and a short, crest but she was nowhere to be seen. They were known as Merganser in North America and foraged by diving and swimming underwater, propelled by their feet, stroking with both feed in unison.

Nearby we watched a pair of Moorhen’s courting behaviour. Contrary to most birds, females competed for males, engaged in female-female fighting and initiated courtship. The heaviest female vie for the smallest male that meant female weight and male size were negatively correlated. Courtship behaviours included bowing and open-wing displays with harsh ‘ticket-ticket-ticket’  calls. The female solicited copulation by performing an arch-bow display.

We didn’t stay long because the weather had turned windy and we didn’t want to be caught out in the reserve. As we walked out, we saw this adorable Long-tailed tit waving us goodbye. Were it not for the long tail and the puffed-out plumage, this diminutive bird could claim from the Goldcrest the distinction of being Britain’s smallest bird. Then it flew off to join its family party roaming happily through the woods.

This month too we began checking out a field near Coombe Abbey in Brinklow for hares. One of Brandon regulars, Greenman, had given us a vague description of the place. We parked our car by a farmer’s gate and scanned the huge fields. Babe spotted 3 brown hares feeding on the grass but they were too far away to photograph. We were hoping to see some courtship ritual taking place but they just kept on nibbling on the young shoots. We walked along the road hoping to get closer but the hedges were in the way. Loud calls from this Great Spotted Woodpecker kept us company.

I was also looking for sightings of Waxwings around Coventry. There were sightings all over the UK but not here. Waxwings were small startling-sized birds with prominent cress and colourful markings. They only flew here from Siberia and northern Scandinavia when they experienced a harsh winter or if there was food shortage. So many had been spotted that the RSPB described the month as a ‘Waxwing Winter’.

They were traditionally said to herald the onset of icy weather, so the arrival of unusually high numbers suggested a cold spell ahead. They had appeared all along the east coast of Scotland and England, and had been moving steadily south and west in search of food. Their arrival had been classed as an ‘irruption’ to signify a large-scale arrival of a bird not normally found here.

These plump, shaggy-crested birds, named because their red wing markings resembled wax seals, fed on berries. They had a distinctive appearance, with a mix of soft pinks and buffs, and splashes of bright yellow and red, topped off with a black ‘robber’s mask’ and a punk-like crest. Each bird was capable of devouring 390 berries, roughly their own weight, in two and half hours.

Irruptions, or ‘invasions’ were prompted by failures of berry trees in Scandinavia. Typically, Waxwings arrived in eastern Britain, stripped trees and bushes such as rowan, hawthorn and elder of their berries, then moved on in search of more berries. On the continent, these mysterious irruptions used to prompt superstition and fear. They were named ‘plague birds’ because their visits were said to coincide with epidemics. Here, large numbers had traditionally been linked to a cold, hard winter.

Although Coventry and Warwickshire didn’t experience any cold, hard winter, there were plenty of sightings of these enigmatic birds. I kept an eye on Twitter for local sightings and we checked out the location as soon as it saw it. The first place we went was at the village of Wolson near Rugby. Unfortunately, when we arrived about 2 hours later, they’d already stripped the berries in the area. But, they did return back in the evening.

The 2nd time was at our local haunt. I was at work and asked Babe to get me during my lunch break and we drove straight to Brandon Marsh. Again, we missed them. To overcome my frustration, we treated ourselves to hot chocolate and sat by the window of the cafe. A handsome Nuthatch entertained us with his feeding antics while I drowned my sorrows.

In the nearby bushes, flocks of streaky-brown Reed Buntings were flying in and out to feed. The males had black heads and black throats, with a white collar and white moustache. They were some of the most ’adulterous’ birds on record. Over half the chicks in a nest might not been fathered by the female’s mate!!! After finishing our delicious drink, Babe drove me back to work.

On the weekend, there was another sighting again at Brandon. It was now or never. As soon as we drove through the gate, I kept my eyes peeled on the trees that lined the road. And there they were, flying in and out of the bushes. We immediately parked the car and Babe went out with camera blazing. I stayed in the car grinning like a Cheshire cat. All you could hear were our cameras rattling away. They were busy stripping the last of the elder berries and wasn’t at all concern about the cameras.

When I looked behind our car, there were at least a dozen cars parked behind us. Everyone was out with their cameras and binoculars. What a treat. It was like Xmas all over again. I think we were there for nearly an hour photographing about half a dozen of the most long-awaited birds. After feeding, they perched regally on top of the trees looking down at their loyal subjects. It was simply fabulous.

I was quite reluctant to leave but we’d our fill and must let others to have a chance. It was quite misty in the reserve. More than a dozen Cormorants were basking on the main island  outside Baldwin Hide. They were large and conspicuous water-birds with an almost primitive appearance with their long necks making them almost reptilian. A pair swam towards the hide. There was a hint of dinosaur about the cormorants with wing feathers like scales, startling emerald eyes, agitated head movements, and the confident demeanour of a consummate predator.

Then we trooped over to East Marsh Hide. The lone drake Goosander was low in the water, bobbing away on small waves. I do hope that this spectacular, shy, tree-hole nesting duck finds a partner to keep him company. Suddenly, with an arch of his long neck, he dived and was gone. A Buzzard flew in and landed on a branch on the opposite bank and kept us company.

Buzzards used 3 main hunting techniques. They might locate prey from a perch and then flew directly to it. They soared over open terrain, hanging in the wind before dropping on to the prey and continued the attack on the ground. Alternatively, like this handsome bird, walked and stood on the ground looking for invertebrates. Then he flew back to the perch and started the same procedure. I think this must be its hunting perch which would be defended from other birds.

We didn’t stay long because we wanted to check out our new playground for the hares. We parked the car at the usual place and scanned the fields. Unfortunately, the mist was coming down and we couldn’t see anything. Nearby, Babe spotted a pair of Red-legged partridge feeding among the stumps of the sugar beets. Although visibility was very bad, we could see the distinctive barred flanks, red legs and rufous chest. These handsome birds were sometimes known as the French partridge as they were introduced to Britain from the French.

February was also the month for love. The poet Chaucer in the middle ages was the first person to link St Valentine with romantic love. This was the beginning of the tradition of courtly love, a ritual of expressing love and admiration, usually in secret. Now, Valentine’s Day was associated with romantic love, and a marketing dream where millions of soppy cards were exchanged. Gifts of flowers, especially red roses, were sent with romantic messages and couples spent special time together over very expensive candle-lit dinners. Don’t forget the chocolates, teddy bears, perfumes and jewellery. It must be hard on someone who was still single.

I took the day off to spend the day with Babe. After exchanging soppy cards and gifts, we made our way to our favourite place to spend the days with our favourite birds. The cafe had a special Valentine meal on and I dared not check on how much it was going to cost. But it was popular because it was fully booked. At first we’d the Baldwin Hide to ourselves and watched a heron fishing.

Then, it began to fill up and was a bit noisy that none of the waders swam closer to the hide. We just sat at our favourite corner and scanned the surroundings. The Buzzard was back at its perch and hunting on the ground. A solitary Muntjac feeding contently on the opposite bank, before disappearing back into the undergrowth.

After about an hour, everyone began to leave and the hide was quiet again. The Great Crested Grebe, Tufted ducks, Golden eye, Cormorants, Goosander and Pochards started swimming closer to the hide. A lightning flash of azure and a shrill call from the Kingfisher zoomed past before it disappeared into the undergrowth.  All you could hear were our cameras rattling away. We just don’t know where to point  because so many things happened at once.

The piece de resistance was when a Little Egret flew in and landed on Goose Island. We held our breadth and watched it feeding.  It fed by walking through the water, stabbing left and right for small fishes, frogs and aquatic insects. Sometimes, it ran and agitated the shallow water with its feet to disturb the prey. It was highly dependant on visual cues when hunting and its feeding was highly affected if the water wasn’t clear.

The Little Egret stood out well with its pure white plumage, elongated, sinuous long neck, attractive plumes on crest, back and chest. The legs and bill were dark but the feet was bright yellow. They were usually solitary except when roosting in trees or flying to roost. They were also known as the Lesser Egret.

Trust not too much in whiteness as a symbol

for who can tell when foulness frames the bridal gown

or when smirched mind hides behind laundered wimple?

As for th' untrammelled snows, so beautiful,

likely they're scheming how they might remove your toes,

perhaps even peck off your precious nose.

Consider now the Egret how pure and innocent she seems,

dropping on angel wings from a heavenly sky

to stab to death every last thing that moves beneath her bright eye

~Wayland Wordsmith ‘Consider now the Egret’~

On the way back to the car, we took a different route through the forest. keeping our eyes on the fallen wood. And there it was flushing in clusters on the moss-covered tree trunks. These crimson, red goblet shaped fungi was the Scarlet Elf Cup which were fairly common in humus, rich damp deciduous wood. It was one of a handful of mushroom to be found during the coldest time of the year.

It was also time to check Ashlawn Cutting to see if the boys were back. The Conservation work parties had done so much for this nature reserve. The zig-zag path down to the reserve had been improved and the place had been tidied of shrubs and brambles with hedging along the way. Unfortunately, this place was littered with dogs poo that we’d to keep our eyes peeled on the ground to avoid stepping on them. Grr…..

Along the way, clumps of snowdrops popped under the tangled brambles. One of their country names was ‘Fair Maids of February’ and they were also known as ‘Candlemas Bells.’ They were out in time for Imbolc and for Candlemas. Imbolc was the Celtic pagan cross-quarter day, halfway between the winter solstice and the spring equinox. Seeing these little white flowers, heralded the approach of spring, bringing hope to the heart and consolation at the end of a cold, grey winter.

We continued on down the steep sided disused railway cutting with its very, wet and muddy path. The reserve was awashed with bird songs from Goldfinches, Robins, Blackbirds, Great, Blue and Long-tailed tits.  Under Ashlawn bridge, we found only one clump of frog spawn. We searched high and low for the boys but no body was home, We met a few of the volunteers and had a nice long chat. We hoped to come here every week to see the boys again.

February ended with a visit from Storm Doris that moved across the UK bringing gusts of up to 94 mph accompanied by heavy snowfall across Scotland. The Met Office issued yellow and amber warnings for wind, snow and rain. Overnight and into the morning, the Storm underwent explosive cyclogenesis labelling it a weather bomb.

We checked out our favourite playground after the storm was over. We heard that the storm had caused a number of issues with several trees coming down in the gale. One in particular, was our favourite tree at Carlton Hide. It was an ancient Field Maple, reputedly to be one of the oldest in Warwickshire. Half of the tree had split and collapsed. The conservation team had done a good job of clearing the path.

 

We also stopped at Baldwin Hide to check on our feathered friends. They didn’t seemed too bothered with what was happening after the storm was over. The Pochard, Tufted ducks, Cormorant and the Golden Eye swam quite close to the hide. Againl, a lightning flash of azure whizzed past us before it disappeared into the undergrowth. Earlier this week, Babe managed to photograph it perched on its favourite stump.

On Goose island, a Great Crested Grebe was surveying the area for potential nesting site. I hoped it wouldn’t choose the island because it was in a very vulnerable location. Usually, the nest was either a hidden mound of reeds and other vegetation or a floating platform anchored to vegetation. Compared with other waders, they were limited in their choice of nesting sites, largely because of their physical specialisation as a highly efficient diver. 

On land, it lost its grandeur, walking clumsy because its feet were placed so far back on its body. The feet was very poorly adapted for walking on land. It waddled with great difficulty and seemed to drag itself around on its belly. This was because for maximum efficiency and thrust in the water, the legs and feet were positioned as far back on its body as could be. After about 15 minutes, it made its way into the water to join its partner.

We were hoping for a water ballet performance but not today. They were content to be swimming around the lake and if they were separated calls could be heard. For such elegant birds, they possessed the most inelegant repertoire of sounds ranging from guttural grunts, to loud squawks and honks like a goose, to rolling growling noises. Fingers-crossed, they will be able to find a favourable nesting site to start a family.

‘Grebes run on the lake

love has its playful moments

pleasure with winged feet’

~David De la Croes~

We then made a pit stop at East Marsh Hide. On the main island, Wigeons were having a snooze after a full day grazing on the grass banks. A pair of Oystercatcher flew in with their distinctive and shrill, piping ‘kleep, kleep calls. We watched them performing piping displays, running together side by side, calling loudly. Then the female adopted a stiff, stationary posture, bending forward with legs straight, neck drawn in, bill horizontal, and tail elevated. The male mount, briefly waving wings, calling and pecking at female’s head, then lowered himself onto tarsi. It only lasted a few seconds.

After that x-rated display, we left them and walked through the forest to cool down. We spotted more Scarlet Elf Cups along the way. We made a pit stop at Steely Hide but nobody was home. We spotted a Buzzard but it was too far away to photograph. Since everything was winding down for another cold night, we said bonne nuit to our feathered friends and made our way home.

And lastly came cold February, sitting
In an old wagon, for he could not ride,

Drawn of two fishes, for the season fitting,
Which through the flood before did softly slide

And swim away: yet had he by his side
His plough and harness fit to till the ground,

And tools to prune the trees, before the pride
Of hasting Prime did make them burgeon round.

So passed the twelve months forth, and their due places found.

~Edmund Spenser, ‘The Faerie Queen~

Imbolc Tales

February was named after the ancient Roman festival of purification called Februa. It was pre-spring, the second half of winter, the season of nothing-happening, when it was mostly grey and rainy or cold and wet. But, there was a festival meant to symbolically drive out these frigid conditions celebrated by the Pagans known as Imbolc. It fell on the midway point between the winter solstice and the spring equinox. Imbolc derived from Old Irish meaning ‘in the belly’ or ‘ewe’s milk’. It was a celebration of fertility, reproduction and the young, overseen by Brigid, the Celtic goddess of fire, fertility, midwifery and the young.

We started February with a bang when our neighbour’s cat, Boots or Puss-in-Boots, triggered the house alarm. He always come into the house whenever he saw the front door open. Babe was tinkering with the car when he came in and went straight upstairs to sleep in the spare bedroom. Babe left him since he was fast asleep when he came to get me from work. I think he woke up and started moving which triggered the alarm. His owner, MA who doesn’t know he was in the house, came out checking our house when the alarm went off. Thanks MA. As soon as we opened the door, Boots casually sauntered out!!! From now on, we always checked the rooms, just in case. 

We calmed down by checking out Brandon Marsh where the water level from the River Avon had risen and flooded the foot paths. We still continued on and stopped to admire the clumps of flowering Primroses on the bank opposite Central Marsh Pool. I took a moment to breathe in the sweet scent of these dainty lemon petals with egg-yolk centres among the fresh-green rosette of leaves. I was delighted to see these drops of sunshine dotted along the eroding bank.

We kept on moving because the bare vegetation offered little shelter from the bone-aching north-westerly wind. We checked out Baldwin Hide where a stunning male Great Crested Grebe in his breeding plumage cruised in front of the hide.There were dozens of Tufted ducks with their spectacular dive, diving deeper for food from the bottom of the lake. Two handsome Pochard males were lucky to be in the company of the nondescript brown females.

On the nearly flooded Willow Island, I counted 62 very vocal Lapwings. From a distance, they appeared black above and white below, but actually they have a beautiful iridescent dark green and purple underparts. Also known as the peewit in imitation of their display calls, their proper name described their wavering flight. But I was distracted by this beauty, a female Goosander, swimming close to the hide.

Among the ruckus, a Shelduck was fast asleep. Nearby, another pair was upending in the water, foraging and head-dipping for aquatic invertebrates. Perched on the pole were the reptilian gargoyles in the shape of the Cormorants eyeing the surroundings with murderous disdain. Check their crucifix-like stance, body upright, wings held partly outstretched in an eerie pose.

A rainbow appeared at the further end of the reserve when a group of twitchers entered noisily into the hide with their binoculars, bird guides and note-books. As usual. I must have librarian stamped on my forehead when one of them started asking me questions like ‘what was that? Is that a Shelduck? Have you seen the Golden Eye etc, et, etc…After a while, it got a bit too much and we left.

We didn’t check the rest of the hides because we knew that it was also going to be busy. I was gutted not to check the East Marsh Hide because Babe had seen the very elusive Bittern, the piece de resistance here. It was a keystone wetland species with its owl-like flight, with the head stretched out in short flights and tucked in for the long ones. Birdwatchers, nature lovers and photographers from all over the country would arrive en masse if any sighting was recorded. Hang on…. maybe that was why they were here.

We walked through the forest where Scarlet Elf Cups were appearing on the ground and I spotted a Great Spotted Woodpecker scaling the tree trunk.  A pity I couldn’t get a better photograph because it was quite dark in the woods. Not long now before the woods will be echoing with their drummings. It then uttered a sharp alarm or flight call and disappeared deeper into the woods. A signal for us to head home.

This month we also welcomed the Year of the Red Fire Monkey on the 8th. Chinese New Year was celebrated with the ringing of bells, the lighting of firecrackers and watching traditional lion dances. We were lucky to have the best seat in the house when we attended a free performance by the world renowned Performing Arts Ensemble Kodo from Sado island.

“How to play music may be known. At the commencement of the piece, all the parts should sound together. As it proceeds, they should be in harmony while severally distinct and flowing without break, and thus on to the conclusion.”

~Confucius~ 

From its ancient origins as military exercises and entertainment in castles and shrines, Taiko drumming had evolved into a new phenomenon of ensemble drumming entertaining audiences across the world. Based on Sado Island in Japan, Kodo made its debut in 1981 at the Berlin Festival.

“The heart jungle drum beat finds its voice in love and matchsticks.”

~Isabel Yosito~

We sat in the cold outside the Warwick Arts Centre watching these very fit musicians entertaining us with a vibrant exhibition of drumming with drums of various sizes, the fue flutes and a chappo (Japanese hand cymbal). Their precision of their drumming was such a joy to watch. They were so close to where I was sitting that I could feel the vibrations of the drums through my skin.  We were so impressed that we wanted to watch them perform live. But unfortunately, Babe wasn’t well enough to attend. Never mind, we will definitely see them again in their next tour.

“Music in the soul can be heard by the universe.”

~Lao Tzu~

Then it was the time of the year again where the world was showered in red or pink hearts. Red roses, cute teddy bears, hearts, soppy cards and chocolates were everywhere. Cupid was busy again, using his bow and arrow to strike romance into people’s heart.

“Love is just a word until someone comes along and gives it meaning”

~Unknown~

After exchanging cards, we celebrated ours doing the things we loved best. We went for a walk at Draycote Waters to check out whether the natives were in the mood for love.  It was freezing but there were still very determined sailors honing their skills on the very choppy water. Dunnocks, Wrens and Pied wagtails were feeding among the rocks, trying their best  to not being blown away. Only the Pipit managed to stay long enough to pose.

There were a lot of Little grebes, Great Crested Grebes, Golden Eyes, Tufted ducks, Coots and Mallards feeding and cruising along Farborough and Toft bank. A Cormorant was in its breeding colour with a white patch under its wings. The Coots were beginning to be territorial as a few were spotted chasing each other. We could hear the Little Grebes whirring away and Great Crested Grebes croaking, all calling out for their partners. I was hoping for some action but I guess it was still early.

We continued towards the Hide stopping to check out a flock of Greylags and Canada Geese grazing on the grass. At the Hide, we were entertained by the antics of the squirrel on the bird-feeder. Blue tits, Great tits, Robins and Chaffinches were taking turns to feed while a pair of Mallards were picking on the seeds that had fallen on the ground. An adorable Long-tailed tit pop over to say hello.

To the right of the hide was Toft Shallow where 6 White Fronted Geese were feeding. Woo---hoo. This was our first sighting of the flock which had been wintering here for months. These grey goose were bigger than the mallard and smaller than a mute swan. They have large white patch at the front of the head around the beak and bold black bars on the belly. In North America, they were known as ‘Specklebelly’ due to the salt-and pepper appearance of their underside.

These species don’t breed in the UK. Two races migrated to the UK in winter which were birds that bred in Greenland which had orange bills and birds that bred in Siberia which had pink bills. Both had orange legs and I have no idea where these were from. And I couldn’t care less because it was just lovely to see these birds 3000 km away from their nesting sites. Soon, in mid to late April they will leave their wintering grounds for their breeding grounds.

Something in the undergrowth scared all the waders away and all of them swam to the centre of the lake. The geese were a bit agitated and they flew off to the further end of the reservoir. It was also a cue for us to leave. We scanned the waters for the elusive Great Northern Diver but he was no where to be seen. We waited for the sun to set and it bathed everything in its golden colours. The brilliant red sunset faded into a bruised purple afterglow conjuring up images of tropical paradise and romance. What a lovely day to end our Valentine.

When I admire the wonder of a sunset my soul expands in the worship of  the creator.

~Gandhi~

Finally, CC and I managed to fix a date for our monthly dinner and this time we were joined by another x-colleague, KC. She was here for the weekend and it was a wonderful opportunity to see everyone again. KC chose the Noodle Bar but unfortunately, it was packed and there were about 6 people in front of us waiting to be seated. So our next option was Cosmos which thankfully was able to accommodate us but we have to leave by 7.30 pm.

“Chinese food tries to engage the mind, not just the palate. To provoke the intellect.”

~Nicole Mones~

The place was buzzing as it was a Friday and also pay-day. We were seated at the further end which was much quieter. We saved our conversations after the starter. As usual, I went for the Sushi bar and piled them along with prawns and mussels. We’d a lovely time catching up as the 2 of them had left the University.

“My favourite thing is to have dinner with friends and talk about life”.

~Carla Gugino~

For my next course, I chose more seafood again. There were salmon, prawns and mussels with braised tofu and Chinese vegetables on top of noodles. Yum—yum. We kept each other up-to-date with what was happening at work and in our life. I’d not seen CC for nearly 5 months and  KC for nearly 2 years. Oops… but we do keep in touch via Twitter and e-mails. To end the banquet, I chose the tropical fresh fruits and creme brûlée. Then it was time to waddle back to the bus station. It was lovely seeing the girls again and hopefully we would meet up soon.

“People who love to eat are always the best people”

~Julia Child~

I was chuffed when Babe photographed this adorable Wren feeding in the garden. When we moved here, there were loads of them creeping along the stone walls calling with their remarkably clear loud trills. But they’d been silence since and I blame the local cats that were always patrolling these walls.

“He who shall hurt the little wren

Shall never be loved by men”

~William Blake~

I was also delirious when I spotted a pair of Blue Tits checking out the bird-box at the bottom of the garden. Woo-hoo. I hoped they liked it and will start a family soon.Two years ago, a pair nested here and had 3 chicks, Unfortunately, their cries attracted a cat and we found them dead in the box a few days before they were supposed to fledge. We reinforced the site with chicken wires to stop the bandits sitting on the box. It was empty last year and I’m pleased to see them back. I’m keeping my toes and fingers double-crossed.

“Never look for birds of this year in the nests of the last”

~Miguel De Cervantes~

We ended the month with a trip to one of our favourite playground, Bradgate Park. It was a lovely drive but unfortunately we came across a dead fox and badger on the M69. When we arrived at the Park, there was a sign stating that it was full. We still drove in and managed to find a parking space. Clumps of Snowdrops were flowering by the banks of the River Lin that flowed through the Park.

We continued walking and noticed that the natives weren’t around. They were high up in the hills and the reason was that quite a few dogs were running freely. The dogs-on-leash ruling didn’t last long. We noticed that Lady Jane ruins were open and headed straight there. The ruins were now open during winter on Sundays from 10-4 pm. We crept slowly towards a herd of the resident fallow deer at the further end of the wall.

Loud laughing calls or yaffle of the Green Woodpeckers echoed around us. We followed the calls and noticed the yellowish yellow rump as they flew away with their bouncing, undulating flights. They landed among the ant and termite hills that were scattered behind the ruin and were busy feeding. This was because their diet consisted mainly of ants and termites- adult, larvae and eggs.

A flock of Redwings were flying around the ruins and it was a challenge to photograph. While I was busy stalking them, Babe found a dead peacock in a ditch. He informed one of the wardens who radioed someone to take it away. Since there was nothing much going on, we made our way home. We made a pit stop at Groby Pool where a few people were feeding the ducks, geese and swans. There was much scrambling in the water but this pair was more interested in each other.

The leap year meant that February combined with the everlasting cold of winter, all the rain of spring, had lasted a whole 24 hours longer!!! Employers had confirmed that nobody got an extra day’s salary, which had been described as ‘the icing on the cake’. February was the month which had everything from perpetual darkness to still paying off the Christmas credit card bill. It also meant that women could ask men to marry them. Surely a gesture of weary despair perfectly attuned to the month it was in. It seemed that the leap day was a women-hating, salary stealing, birthday wrecking, interest –hungry excuse for 24 hours. But hey, the big thaw was on its way and lets shake off the grey skies and bone-chilling winds by celebrating the Imbolc and the return of the crocus.

“February is merely as long as is needed to pass the time until March”

~J. R. Stockton~