First frost

This morning brought the first frost of the winter. Just a slight dusting of the grass, but a chilling hint of what follows. I walked down to the village green for the first time this week and was surprised to see the number of branches shed by the stream side willows. The stream flows strongly but is almost blocked in places by all the storm debris.
Took Dylan to one of the local lakes, and the first thing I saw was a kingfisher. Seen against the morning sun, I could only see it in profile, but its unmistakable shape and call ensured an accurate identification.The sun reflecting on the still lake through rising mist brought recollections of my time in the Algonquin, though only little grebes were to be seen, not the majestic loons of that far off place. My reverie was broken by the noisy take-off of a pair of cormorants that had been perched close to the shore and as I emerged from the wood, my view also took in a small flotilla of tufted duck, and numerous coots.
Had to take several detours from the path to circumvent fallen trees.