It’s 1st December and when we arrive two of the vehicles have their bonnets open and jump leads attached. It can’t have been less than minus four here, and a crisp dry weekend but for some reason the cars don’t want to go home.

We use our car to get a neighbour’s van going and the other gets hooked up to a battery charger via a generator and after less than an hour they disappear.

We are left with quiet again. A fire is lit to take off the chill and we walk up the hill to pay our annual ground rent to the farmer’s mother.

The burn is gurgling and churning past frozen branches, clear water making its way down the hill past our hut.

The leaves and branches underfoot are frozen. Someone has taken the tops off the leylandi and beech hedge so I collect up the fallen branches ready to dry out and burn.

I wish my dog had seen this place. He would have wanted to stay forever.

The sun sets leaving the sky pink and amber against the frost covered fields. A robin sits on the fence watching us as we potter around outside. He disappears and comes back, curious.

I don’t have any nuts or seed for him. I tried a while ago but the feeder broke. Must get another.

As we sit on the sofa snuggled under thick (fake) fur blankets with the fire crackling and the solar lights flickering on and off as darkness falls, a bat keeps flying towards the window then disappears.

Winter is here and we are happy.