Sophie and I met a fisherman on our walk the other day. That is indeed a rare thing to see. Though there are signs in places to say that the fishing is exclusive to one club or another, there are seldom any fishermen on the banks of the Evenlode. I have seen huge trout under the bridge in Charlbury, so I know there has been good fishing to be had. But this man had only tried his luck for half an hour and had given up.
I spotted him in the long grass moving around furtively and went over to see what was afoot.
He explained that he had just seen an otter.
His dog had scared it away, sadly. There were no more signs. It might have been one of those fishermen's tales. I haven't even seen a kingfisher since the early autumn. I saw one here (picture above) in the summer, but I have only ever caught one on camera the once. (Below)
Winter comes at last at Imbolc, the snowdrop festival, just when the first signs of spring should be showing. Who knows what will become of that premature spring now?
Now the snow has finally come to the valley. It was very cold on our Sunday walk. There was snow already on the road outside the house as we returned from the Bedser ancient farm, where we had gone for tales of Merlin in an iron age house.
We headed down to the valley on Sunday morning. A surprising number of walkers had already set footsteps in the snow.
I am delighted to have such a different view of the Evenlode snaking through the secluded valley.
But it was such a dark clouded day. Only for a few moments did bright light break through the gloom.