On Tuesday it was bright but still frosty, and so very quiet, so quiet that when I stood under the tree at the front of the house, I could hear the crystals growing and breaking, and when I looked around there was a sifting of icicles falling down on me, and were building up under the trees, and on the road like snow. The berries on the Cotoneaster by the front door gave a splash of colour.
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As I went down the garden to fetch my bike from the shed, I saw a row of frost encrusted spider webs.
By the time I had cycled up to the Castle and stopped to admire the countryside, my hands were so frozen that it was really lovely to go into the shop and warm up on hot mulled wine.
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