I abandoned the search for explanation when I found two small pools, adjacent. One pool was clear, dark and with faint ripples striking reflections off the bright sky above. It's neighbour, equal in every other way I could discern, held fans of crepe paper ice in the sort of not-quite-repeating pattern that ruins much 1970's Artex.
More cold gathered in the pockets, especially those with a North facing slope. In these lowest depressions, frost held onto the grasses and the puddles were either hard or harboured chipped ice-caps, where broken by browsing animals.
My early companion, half moon, dimmed to the fiercer yellow of its parent light and the field above blushed blue; fading to thin mist at the horizons.
Hi-viz foot strikers were out, considering each next stride to maximise exercise effectiveness. Dog walkers checked their charges to save me from their unwelcome salivas. The ponies wore their hearth-rug coats.
The wind was keen to cut, though before half way I removed my gloves and rolled my coat zip to regulate my temperature. Seven miles without a stand to stare; just the rolling landscape and the brief encounters for company. Good walking.
