Well, here we are, another year full of good intentions and hope, with a need to detox after all the indulgence.
In January, as the trees rest and the ground is saturated, I tread lightly to avoid disturbing the slumbering landscape, with the forest floor cradling the drowsy woodland. The sap has receded deep into the earth, and fungi have been effectively clearing away the forest debris. Amidst the mud and puddles are beech masts and fallen leaves, along with wind-tossed branches adorned with lichen. This time of year, the soil isn't the only protector of the forest. Grey squirrels dash and scurry through the trees as their breeding season begins, while robins accompany us with their charming songs on our winter walks. Blackbirds can often be seen tossing leaf litter into the air as they search the damp soil, and I enjoy watching treecreepers spiral up the trees with the branches bare. In my quiet moments in the dormant woodland, wrens and bank voles entertain me as they bustle in and out of woodpiles, and greater spotted woodpeckers begin drumming to mark their territories. The cold night resounds with the back-and-forth calls and hoots of tawny owls as they pair up for their breeding season.