Originally published in the Manchester Guardian on 2 December 1915In these days of early winter one gets very vivid colour still in morning skies,and the reflection of this in water is sometimes even deeper than any we see in midsummer. Standing above the winding reaches of a narrow stream which ran through marshy land, we saw the steel-blue of wind-ruffled water thrown up in sharpest contrast by the soft, or pale buff of the grass and the slightly darker buff of the sedges. No such contrast appeared when the grasses were lush in midsummer,or in so gentle a winter as we had last year, when even meadow grass remained as green as green moss; reeds and rushes too, or bear all some grey in their outer sheathing which makes them,in their green season, tone softly into the tints of sky and water. But under the sharp touch of frost buff and blue stood keenly contrasted, and uncompromising,nearly harsh; and the outlines of the little compact white clouds that raced overhead were sharp, too, and dazzling.
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Source: theguardian.com