In the field the 'dogged old ewes' have turned their backs against the rain and stand, stock-still as statues, facing east. I watch the rain driving across the dark conifers of Badnage Wood. It's not so much falling, but surrounding us and all pervasive.
If there can be a plus side to this sodden day when the landscape's colour is reduced to a sombre palette - then I find it in the flash of red on the woodpecker outside the window and the extra sparkle of the Christmas tree lights in the gloaming. Small pleasures.