Early one Winter's Morning

Not so early, really; it's getting on for 10 o'clock in fact, but there's a cold, fresh, silvery light in the sky, a mistiness over the hills and a fresh layer of white on the top. Maybe not snow this time, just a dousing of big white hailstones, but an indicator that winter is coming. No-one much about yet, adding to the feeling I have that I got up early. It's a beautiful day.

A woman wanders nonchalantly along the bay, smiling at no-one in particular, the jauntiness of her step bearing witness to her love of the outdoors and her obvious enjoyment of this pretty, silvery morning. She disappears into the distance, gaily swinging her arms, as the hailstones return and soak her brightly coloured coat and cosy ankle boots. We're used to weather here. No use trying to avoid it. Winter is coming and there will be rain, there will be gales and, especially on the hills, there will be thick, white snow.

So, get ready for it! Order in the groceries from Asda, with gratitude for the brave efforts of their delivery men, fill the freezer, turn up the heating if you dare. Batten down the hatches. It's time to do what we came for - time to write, time to paint, time to fill the house with the tantalising aroma of freshly baked bread and to relax by the fire with the latest knitting project. Knitting is 'in' this year; more and more young people are taking it up and experimenting with all the new designer yarns now on offer. That's good - I'd be doing it anyway, but it's a bonus to be in fashion.

Winter in Wales; a new experience for me: one step at a time, exploring this new season. Fifty-nine winters already under my belt, but never before in Wales. People make their own entertainment here. It's like living in a former era, when families and friends got together to make music, to eat and drink together on winter nights and to enjoy each other's company. Before the days of TV and computer technology, when families would gather round the glowing embers of the fire, with books, with sewing, around the piano, or with clarinet, flute or recorder, amusing themselves and each other till nightfall. There's a sense of creativity in the air here that seems to encourage such behaviour, that makes us sit contentedly with a favourite book, forgetting to turn on the telly. Everyone seems to have a hobby; arts and crafts of all kinds thrive in these tiny Welsh villages; choirs and amateur theatre groups abound; the art of making merry still lives on in the time-honoured fashion.

Is this a rose-tinted view? Is the reality a good deal harsher than this? Am I simply romanticising? Well, time will tell. There are two sides to every coin and I have yet to discover the flip side. No doubt the Asda delivery man will have tales to tell as he brings my groceries over the mountains through sleet and snow. For the moment, though, I will focus on the positive. It's the best way and I'm still in love with this newly discovered way of life, even though winter is on its way.