Here in Scotland, the season is turning and Winter is unrolling her cloak across the land. The trees are bare now, stripped of their summer clothes, and the only green is from the evergreens which will endure all winter. There’s no snow yet but frost hangs in the air spraying everything, untouched by the watery sun, with a crisp white coat.
These photos were taken on a dog walk in Dalkeith Country Park. The ground was gripped firm by ice, and the leaves crackled with frost beneath our footsteps. The sun barely seemed to lift her head above the horizon, and our breath curled like dragon smoke in the air above us. The promise of snow hung heavy in the sky all day, and the puddles remained glazed hard despite the suns best efforts.
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