82.

  December snow.

 2 crows bathing in the snow: one wing shoulder along the rim of the snow, then the other slid along; a preen under wing then the head buried and shaken.  They take a slide, a skid along their back sides as a final move in the sequence that is both balletique and comic.
Snow slips and flumps from branches as I stroll the lanes, compacted underfoot but well tramped. A yellowish light pervades. A partial moon eclipse may be seen apparently tonight but the sky is blanketed, muted with snow cloud.

Family calls and England is  white