Country diary: All is damp and dripping in the misty shroud | John Gilbey

Aberystwyth, Ceredigion: On days like this, it's clear that sunset will be a technical event rather than a spectacleMist wraps the valley in a cold, grey shroud that eases around the barren trees and chills everything it touches. On the hard cuticle of a holly leaf, pinpoint lenses of water form - coalescing into large drops that roll to the leaf tip and drop, before the cycle repeats. In the hedgerow, webs hang low, like miniature hammocks, weighed down by the droplets that outline every node in the network of threads.At the old iron gate that leads on to the lane, the fallen leaves of autumn, now dank, heavy and mouldering, have been swept into a deep wedge by the repeated movement. I struggle to push it further back and ease my passage. After the recent massive storm I am taking this route to check for fallen trees, and quickly come across piles of roughly sawn branches lying where they were dragged aside to clear the route down to the farm. Continue reading...