Yesterday in the early hours, while the north of the country was being covered in thick snow, a soft and beautiful flurry fell over Sun Rising. It was a day when a handful of families were coming to plant memorial trees, so we were momentarily concerned about the temperatures of earth and air. However, although the air, still and bright, was bitterly cold, the soil was still soft as butter a few inches below the surface. We planted the little saplings, with frozen fingers and misty breath, snuggling the roots in with grit and compost, and setting them into the tall green shelters.
The lake was frozen, and today, with no further snow but a much colder night, the snow that has fallen yesterday was crunchy with ice. I would add that any visitor should not attempt to walk on the ice, remembering that the lake is a good 3 metres deep. But it is a delight to stand beside it, particularly on bright days as today, when the winter skies are clear blue and seem to stretch forever.
This photograph is taken from the lake, looking up towards the Roundhouse and Sun Rising hill beyond. Perhaps memories of when this view is nothing but the rich greens and golds of summer, I can find an exquisite beauty in its soft white and blues.