Today, in the small mountain kingdom of Trelystan we have been blessed with skies the colour of the flash of blue on a Jay's wing.
One might be beguiled into thinking that spring had arrived. Already primroses are shyly showing their pale faces alongside snowdrops and some of our native daffodils will not be far behind. In the trees' canopy small birds flutter and sing their small hearts out, they too responding to this early warmth. We remind ourselves that there is time yet for a cold snap - indeed there is frost on the windscreen of the car this evening.
As I shut the hens in at dusk I stand a while and listen to owls across the field. I identify 3 calling in Badnage Wood; 2 males hoot and a female screeches eerily in response. From the steep sided Trelystan Dingle another male joins in, his cry is soft and echoes out from this deep and wooded place. It is an orchestra of owls.