³ÉÈËÂÛ̳

Tunnel of trees in Birchover

Winter has turned that all-important corner once again – the longest day is far behind us now, though cold days and nights still remain. It has been a bitter winter this time around, but one I've welcomed.

From November right through until January it’s been so much colder than many a long year before it.

Fox in the snow

My heating bills have probably been higher, though they may be offset a little by my recent attempts to insulate the loft and improve the draught-proofing around the house.

But outside, this is what winter should be about – bright, crisp, frosty mornings and even a bit of snow in the lower parts of Derbyshire; not those soft, mild, unending grey days of the last few years. Though I'm sure they'll return.

Even before the bitter cold of early February, the winter frosts have certainly killed off some of the annuals in my garden which for the last few years have surprised me by continuing on past autumn.

I had a huge bush of Alyssum – a bedding plant which should have died back over 15 months ago, but it went on, happily creeping up through other plants and flowered in profusion.

I hate digging up any living plant, but it finally succumbed in the cold frosty nights, and I'm looking forward to replacing it with new bedding plants and perhaps some more insect-friendly ones at that.

On the bird front, the normal winter visitors have been seen in reasonable numbers in our fields, parks and some of our gardens.

The resident thrushes and blackbirds have had their numbers swelled by immigrants from Europe, escaping worse cold than here. Together, they've been busily picking off the hedgerow hawthorn and holly berries.

Close relatives came to visit, too, just as they do every winter. Fieldfare and redwing have flocked to Britain from colder Scandinavian parts, swelling the numbers of berry-gulping birds in our hedges and trees.

It’s always worth looking closely at any large gathering of birds that seem initially to be thrushes, to look for their similar, but distinctively different cousins.

Nick Moyes

Some winter visitors aren’t quite so reliable. This year there were waxwings in the grounds of my local school. For a whole week I watched as three individuals stripped the rowan berries from some quite small ornamental trees until the food had all gone.Ìý

These large, gaily painted birds with their dash of yellow and jaunty crests and pinkish hue were, of course, unseen by most parents taking their children off to school, but their presence was a delight to see each morning, right there by the pavement.

But the birds have moved on now, perhaps to join some larger flock in trees nearby. Soon they will be leaving for good as spring advances.

Whilst the green shoots of economic recovery still lie undiscovered in Britain, the first signs of winter relaxing its grip can now be seen in the green shoots of underground bulbs appearing above the soil.

Snowdrops are here, and soon others will follow. Hazel flowers, elder leaves, frogs and toads returning to ponds; the first bright yellow brimstone butterfly flitting across our gardens – all lift the spirit of any naturalist.

They all seem so far away, but we know those first signs of spring are only just around the corner.

Nature's sculptures

Now is the time to make the most of one of nature’s sculptural delights – trees, that have been bare for so long, will soon be changing as buds develop.

Each tree species has its distinctive form – the elegant, almost feminine beauty of a bare beech tree contrasts sharply with the rugged, gnarled form of that old man, the oak tree.

In our parks the lime trees stand proud against the sky – their tangled, unkempt branches looking in desperate need of a good hairdresser to thin them out.

Across Britain, many wildlife enthusiasts now help add to the picture of Britain’s changing climate, letting us see what happens from year to year as green shoots appear across the landscape – sometimes making us worry that the new seasons are arriving simply too soon.

Most are amateurs, and each year they help out by simply submitting their observations online of when certain plants and animals first appear each year.

One lady has been recording the first appearance of leaves of oak, ash, lime and horse chestnut since 1947, and these form the only long-term record of tree-leafing in our country.

If you can't get out and about yourself, you can always watch the seasons unfold across the country by visiting the Nature’s Calendar website atÌý www.naturescalendar.org.uk and viewing the cumulative maps of all these observations.

You only have to click 'Play' to watch each week’s sightings unfold right there on your computer.

Nick Moyes