A cold grey miserable morning, but the rain held off for a few hours, so I headed over to the tip of the Studland peninsula to watch the ships leaving & entering Poole Harbour. Even on a grim morning, with no light for photography, and my hands freezing, there's still a certain comfort to be found in watching marine traffic...

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A grey day, and the wind is in the north again, very cold. But at least the rain is holding off. And the days are lengthening noticeably. A few days ago, when the cloud cleared briefly, I set off on my morning walk around the forest in the dark. By the time I turned for home, the stars were fading and the sky lightening in the east, and the Woodlarks were starting to sing.



Despite the almost complete lack of sunshine, the first daffodils are starting to flower in one corner of the garden. (No spring crocuses this year. They came up a few weeks ago, but the rain flattened them before the flowers ever got to open...)

Raining again. Mild again. A quiet walk through the forest, and along the edge of the marshes. No colour in the landscape - the endless rain has washed it all out. Brown heather. Dun reeds. Dun marsh grasses. Stopped a while to watch the rain falling on the black marsh pools: ripples spreading in perfect concentric circles, merging and dissipating. It's quite hypnotic.

The paths still passable, just, though navigation is something of an art. You can't just switch your boots onto auto-pilot and tromp along. You have to look ahead, see which side of the path you should take for the best chance of edging successfully round a puddle-turned-to-lake, see where the rivulet running across the path is narrow enough to leap.

Sat for a while on the wooden bench overlooking the marshes, with the rain pattering on my hood, and water from the pine branches dripping into my coffee. Watched the silver curtains of rain sweeping across the marshes, a pair of geese flying over the reedbeds. Said good morning to a couple passing by in shining waterproofs, accompanied by two cheerful Labradors.

It stopped raining. Just for one day. Blue sky and sunshine, and a northeasterly wind blowing bitter cold and strong enough to ground the skylarks - no song above the fields today. But this might be our only day of sunshine this month, so I set off for another walk on the high ground near the coast.


Kingston village at sunrise.

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Another grey day, though the rain held off for a few hours this morning, and another walk across the high ground, this time following the chalk track along St Aldhelm's Head.


Even the high ground is wet.

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Still raining. Will it ever stop? Probably. And even if it doesn't, the willows and the alder won't mind, and I suppose Spring will find a way, eventually. The daffodils in my garden are sulking. Not one flowering early. Even the little 'Tête-à-tête' daffs are saying "Nothing doing".

Paid a reduced price out-of-season visit to the Blue Pool, for old time's sake, but it was pretty grim. I should have stuck to my resolution never to visit again.

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A walk along muddy paths, down to Shipstal Point, to sit for a while looking out over the choppy grey-brown waters of Poole Harbour. The wind very cold indeed, and the light terrible for photography. But it's a good place to see the birds passing: Oystercatchers, Avocets, and even a flock of Spoonbills.

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Storm Chandra broke several rainfall records in Dorset. Evershot saw a very impressive 55mm of rain within twenty-four hours. And this all falling on already-saturated ground. Took a walk by Stoborough village and the meadows at Wareham to photograph the floods.

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View of Poole Harbour & Arne on a cold, wet & windy January morning.

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