Blue Tit in the snow

Snow has been falling all afternoon and delicate powdery flakes have been cushioning the world into a different, eerie, soft and soundless dimension. From the top of a tree I can hear a Blue Tit calling. It’s insistent.

Its feathers are fluffed up to insulate against the cold.

Its delicate feet dislodge some of the powdery snow from the branch as more snow falls.

It’s very loud.

Then a tractor drives down the lane and it’s gone.