A third of the way through January already. 2014 has, after just 12 days, lost the shiny feel of a 'brave new world' and I have settled down into a life that does not revolve around a year tick and how many pan-species I've seen so far during the month.
Yesterday saw a family outing to the coast, where in glorious weather we walked along the sandy beach at Ferring, with Sanderling scurrying ahead of us, snow white in the brightness. It was warm enough to keep one eye out for a butterfly. I failed, but others up and down the country succeeded - and just a week after the shittiest spell of weather that we've had to suffer for many a year.
It doesn't take long for the hype around a new year to die down. I'm glad when it does so. There's too much expectation to live up to.