All three ponds on the farm froze in the second week of December. The splash, dug specially for teal, was solid enough to walk on. Meg the cocker galloped round it at breakneck speed. The borrow-pit pond froze too. When I broke the ice, it was 3in deep. Reeds protruded like candles from a frosted cake. Neither piece of water could be considered a sanctuary for ducks.
A family of mute swans — two adults and four cygnets — kept a small area ice-free on the largest of the ponds. I fed the hole they generated with generous quantities of wheat, barley, peas and rape seed and the swans were joined throughout the day and night by a steady stream of tufties, wigeon, teal and mallard. To my
