In the dead of winter, the forest is full of life

The woodland was silent. Frost clung to earth and grass stems in every patch of shade not yet touched by the sun’s rays. My fingers felt like blocks of ice, only less useful; I was wishing I’d remembered to wear gloves. I shoved my hands in my coat pockets with my notebook, pen and phone. These three items, along with the binoculars around my neck, are the tools I use to carry out bird surveys (the phone mostly for its timer, as these surveys are strictly 20 minutes duration). Continue reading