It seems that winter has made an appearance, here in beautiful Suffolk. Having awoken early and got up to let my two cheeky dogs out into the garden, I was surprised to see the grass in the fields around my cottage were covered in an icey layer.
There is something about the first frost of the season. The chill in the air serves to remind me of cold winter nights, the festive season and of days when I have had to be up early to scrape ice from my car.
I’m also reminded of the cosiness of home; warm log fires, candlelight, snuggling on the sofa under fleecy blankets and seeing the village chimneys puffing out their (low emission grade) smoke. The scent of the smoke of home fires in the air, of an evening; there’s something about that which just seems so traditional. It’s almost the Charles Dickens stories, come to life.
(c) Deano Parsons. 2020.