Clay Hill Bottom

I was out in the forest early this morning, wandering through Clay Hill Bottom.  A dusting of very light snow covered the heathland, any exposed water had a solid crust and a piercing wind scoured the undulating landscape. Although the ponies looked unmoved as they stood in defiance of the elements, though this can be a harsh and unforgiving environment, and they do well to survive unaided. Man, it was cold, bloody cold.