Waxwings in the mist
Here, deep in the reed beds, the temperatures seemed almost Siberian. Fingers were numb to the bone and any birds were keeping pretty quiet. But by the lane a cluster of colourful waxwings had settled amongst a few scraggy apple trees. These special Scandinavian visitors – this was our first ever sighting – encouraged us to linger before we dipped down rocky slabs towards the shore.
Dank mist at Silverdale Cove created an eerie atmosphere as thick snow and a mirror-calm sea merged together on the pebbly beach. A lone curlew prodded for grubs and a flock of dunlin swirled over a froth of half-frozen waves. The wind then blew up again, and dramatic clouds swept overhead as we walked north to join the path which wraps right round the wooded promontory to the west of Arnside.
Low cliffs gave fine views over a maze of twisting creeks, many of which often change direction and ensure that Morecambe Bay remains a fluctuating wilderness of sand and shore.
Dusk was fast creeping in now, and so was the tide. The low sun lit the Bay and the icy slopes of the Knott glistened in the last rays of the day.