CRISP mornings and plummeting temperatures replace the dreary days of December as the New Year casts a welcome sparkle over the timeless Chilterns landscape.
The branches may be bare and the fields covered in frost, but the first spring-flowering bulbs are beginning to poke through the leaf litter: snowdrops and winter aconites providing a welcome source of nectar for hungry bees at a time of year where other food may be hard to find.
As soon as the land heats up some paths are still waterlogged and our main roads are depressingly lined with litter, but as soon as you leave the main thoroughfares behind, the ramblers and dog walkers leave much less of an imprint on the surroundings.
Here the birds are much more visible against the bare branches as they hunt out berries and there will be carpets of yellow and white flowers among the trees before too long.
From frosty dawn forays to chilly, starlit evening strolls, this is a time of year when the countryside may look asleep but small signs of life are everywhere now that the daylight hours are increasing.
You can hear the first signs of a dawn chorus, as our feathered friends start to prepare for the breeding season after the long hard winter and begin to realise there’s more to life than bickering over the scraps on the bird table.
The volume will grow day by day during the month as the sparrows, robins, dunnocks and tits all start to get in on the act, switching from clicking call notes to more coherent song, full of thoughtful phrases issued from the highest perches.
It’s still a delicate balance, though. The nights are still interminably long for small birds fighting to find enough food during the short chilly days to avoid starving during the hours of darkness.
2024 proved to be a waxwing winter, with the berry-loving birds flocking to the UK in large numbers and brightening up our town centres with their swooping crests, distinctive black “eyeliner” and orange, grey and lemon-yellow tails.
Another distinctive figure is the grey heron, the largest bird most of us will ever see in our garden with a wingspan of around 6ft, and also one of the earliest nesters.
It’s not unusual to see herons picking up sticks and twigs towards the end of January, and some birds lay their first eggs in early February, though the normal start is early March.
Watching these dinosaur-like birds patrolling our river banks in search of a fishy snack, it’s hard to believe that roast herons were popular at medieval banquets. But they seem to be thriving these days, and they’re sociable birds, invariably nesting in long-established heronries which can include dozens or even hundreds of nests.
Early morning forays to local woods and beauty spots provide a vivid reminder of just how much wildlife is around us, even if many animals are still sheltering from the wintry blast or are quick to disappear at the sound of an approaching footstep.
Mammals are on the move this month too: as well as secretive deer and badgers, the fox breeding season peaks after Christmas and January is a peak month for foxes fighting and being run over as they trespass on each other’s territories and range further afield in search of mates.
From the sounds of barking deer and fox mating calls in those first daylight hours to the thrum of a woodpecker or whistle of a red kite, there are plenty of audible clues to the wealth of wildlife around us, even if it sometimes requires a sharp eye, zoom lens and early morning start to spot that heron, egret or well camouflaged owl.
If the ancient wings of the heron make the bird look positively Jurassic, the owl has long been a symbol of wisdom in literature and mythology. Their hunting prowess and night vision, in particular, impressed the Ancient Greeks, who believed that this vision was a result of a mystical inner light and associated the owl with the Goddess of Wisdom, Athena.
The late American poet Mary Jane Oliver expressed it in a rather different way in her poem Little Owl Who Lives in the Orchard:
His beak could open a bottle,
and his eyes – when he lifts their soft lids –
go on reading something
just beyond your shoulder –
Blake, maybe,
or the Book of Revelation.
The ubiquitous grey squirrels are also very lively just now. Cheeky and incorrigible, as they enter the breeding season they can be seen chasing each other madly through the treetops in a frantic courtship dance.
The invasive greys may have many detractors but there’s no doubting just how clever, ingenious and adaptable they are, as we recalled in an article marking Squirrel Appreciation Day.
Smaller mammals like voles and mice may not be quite so outgoing, but rustles in the leaf litter might give away their presence as they trundle around on their daily chores, or you might stumble across one of the network of trails leading to their underground homes.
Even if the birds are wildlife are too quick on the move to pose for your camera, there are plenty of lichens and mosses to provide glorious patterns on trees and walls alike, as well as perfect nesting materials for birds and food and shelter for invertebrates.
Fungi provide welcome splashes of colour too, and an array of intriguing patterns and shapes amid the soggy leaf litter.
The skeletal vegetation allows new vistas to open up too, however, exposing the earthworks, trails, mileposts and ditches so often hidden amid the undergrowth.
While most plants tend to fruit or flower later in the year, you might spot the vivid yellow of mahonia or winter-flowering heather, the first hazel catkins starting to appear along hedgerows and the splashes of colour from the winter berries or vibrant red and yellow dogwood stems.
And if the landscape often lacks colour at this time of year, glorious sunsets and cloudless nights can often compensate.
Clear January skies offer stargazers and nature photographers some great opportunities to turn their cameras skywards, as we examined in our full moon feature.
Anne Rixon‘s stunning shot of this month’s Wolf Moon perfectly captured the timeless wonder of that striking vision when the moon shows its “face” to the earth.
Wolf moons and snow moons, blood moons and strawberry moons, harvest moons and worm moons…long before calendars were invented, ancient societies kept track of the months and seasons by studying the moon.
Their shots reflect some of the amazing colour contrasts to be seen at this time of year, especially on dawn and dusk walks.
It’s a wonderful antidote to the relative bareness of the countryside, and a reminder of just how spectacular the Chilterns can be throughout the changing seasons.
As always we’re greatly indebted to our wonderful team of photographers who have been out and about in all weathers trying to capture the perfect shot, and we’re always keen to hear from other contributors who may be out and about across our circulation area, from Berkshire to the Dunstable Downs, from the outskirts of London to the wilds of Oxfordshire.
If you would like to contribute any pictures, favourite moments or seasonal suggestions to our future calendar entries, join our Facebook group page or write to editor@thebeyonder.co.uk.
