Watching the changing seasons during country dog walks
Come rain or shine we walk our two Golden Retrievers twice daily, often with friends and their dogs, and we see how the seasons change in the countryside around us, both in nature and agriculture.
We meet other dog walkers, many of them regulars, who we have come to know well over 20 years of walking local footpaths, first as “parents” of their pooches (“I saw Poppy the spaniel and her mum today”), then by name, and eventually, after many chats as we walk together, they have become personal friends
We hope that, whether or not you are able to get out and about in the countryside, you will enjoy seeing the changing seasons in the countryside and local farmland during our country walks, and maybe get to know some of our canine friends
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Seasonal Strolls 2024-2025 includes posts from Spring 2024 to the scrub fires of the long hot Summer of 2025. Click the image to see the posts.
10th January 2026
As expected yesterday, and forgotten, thawing snow melt has created large pools of water in a soggy Sheep Field, and so instead of crossing the bridge into the field, we turn right along the field edge track. The ground is frozen, the remaining snow crunching underfoot. The adjacent ditch has overflowed onto the track in places, before freezing, and the ice already broken by earlier walkers.
Emerging onto Croft Hill, the original “Old Hill” the path up is as icy as it has been for a few days, but today the overlying frozen snow gives grip as we climb. Two runners come up from behind and pass us, heading for the top. The dogs ignore them – they have long learned that runners do not stop to give them a fuss and a treat. The runners continue upwards and disappear through the line of bushes that grow below the Trig point at the top of the Hill.
Another wintery walk in bright sunshine. Thanks to a logs delivery, it is a later then usual dog walk, and in consequent we meet dogs who we don’t usually come across, plus at least one regular. A boxer comes towards us, and since it is on lead I call my two to put them on lead, as required by dog walkers’ etiquette. The owners of the boxer shout out to reassure me that I don’t need to – their pooch is just not very good at “recall” – returning when called. We chat, and the boxer, just 9 months old, is released to run around with Sam, since if I call Sam, then the boxer will follow. Cockapoo Freddie arrives, and we all chat while dogs play, but an approaching lurcher on a lead persuades the others to continue up to the Lane while we go to meet the lurcher, only on lead because, as you would expect, the sight of any rabbit, hare or pheasant would result in the lurcher disappearing in hot pursuit.
We cross the road to walk up the steep and rutted track up the side of the “New Hill”, this track usually muddy and so mostly avoided at this time of the year, but today frozen, as the path climbs between the wintery-bare shrubs and grasses on the side of the hill. At the top we meet a family, Mum, Dad and young daughter. Mum and Dad are keen to say hello to Sam and Ellie, the daughter less so, despite sharing her name with Ellie, and I hang on to the dogs collars to prevent an over enthusiastic greeting to Ellie the daughter, who is shorter than pooch-Ellie would be if she chose to jump up to give a hug.
As we approach the top, I see a young couple sitting close together on the rocks around the Trig Point, looking out across the view of South Leicestershire. I put both dogs on lead – the couple will not want their shared time together enjoying the wintery scene interrupted by two bouncy and over friendly Golden Retrievers. The girl comments than my dogs are cute. She wouldn’t be saying that if she was being mugged by Sam trying to give her a hug. We continue down the Hill and back home. I have logs to stack.
9th January 2026
The river is high, almost but not quite breaching the banks, although if the thaw continues there is the chance of some flooding across this low-lying pasture. The field has already flooded two or three times this winter, and with the ground quite compact thanks to sheep grazing here until late November, it can take several dry days for the water to drain away.
I quickly wash and dry the muddy dogs – the hose is still frozen, and so once again Sam and Ellie are treated to warm water from a watering can. I put both dogs in the back of my car and we set off to meet my cousin for a walk around Aylestone Meadows, a huge nature reserve that stretches from outside of Leicester City boundary to within half a mile of the City Centre, following the routes of the Great Central Railway, now a walking and cycling route, the Grand Union Canal, and the River Soar. We walk along the Great Central Way, turn off to cross a packhorse bridge, and follow well defined tracks to join the frozen canal. I put Sam on his lead – he shows an unhealthy interest in Moorhens on the ice at the far side of the canal. It is a lovely walk, and it only the well-maintained paths and regular waste bins that reminds us that this countryside so close to city urban development.
Heavy snow last night, large wet flakes that settled, but with roofs and gutters already dripping while snow fell. There is a covering of wet snow when we set out on our walk, but certainly not deep and crisp and even. The dogs love it though, running through the snow, slush and patches of mud as we make our way down to the sheep field for a quick circuit – we are out and about again later, and so a short early walk will suffice. We have the field to ourselves, and the dogs run through the lying snow, playing and exploring the scents of the riverbank.
Collie Bryn emerges from the dog gate through the hedgerow, closely followed by his owner climbing over the adjacent stile, and my dogs run to “meet and greet” both. Bryn’s owner reports that the wooden bridge over the ditch on the other side of the stile is floating on the high water of the ditch. Hopefully the bridge will settle back into place as the water recedes back into the ditch. We all walk back along the field edge to our Lane, and when we reach our home, Bryn’s owner says that Bryn always stops for a drink from the water bowl that I leave out, but, oddly, will only actually drink from the larger of the two bowls that I “turn and turn about” to keep the bowls clean. The two bowls are almost the same size.
8th January 2026
We cross the road to follow a private lane leading to a bridleway. A man in a high-viz coat is bending down by his car at the top of the lane, and I wonder if all is is well, but he explains that he always stops here to feed a robin that sometimes lands on his hand – the robin flew into the hedge as we approached. He usually drives down the lane and along the bridleway in his car, not a 4×4, to take food, and today containers of water, to a field where his daughter keeps horses. I’ve not met him before, but I knew from other dog walkers that this was a daily event. Today he decided that the bridleway is too slippery for his car, and he has dropped off the horse supplies at the bottom of the lane. I meet his owner coming along the bridleway pushing a wheelbarrow to collect the supplies. We stop to chat – she rents three fields, using just one at a time so that she can move the horses around to prevent the ground from being churned up. The current field is muddy by the gate, but mud free beneath trees at the back – they will stay there for the time being
We return through Croft Glebe and do an extra circuit when we meet a friend and her two lurchers. At least we meet the owner – the dogs are running circuits around the Glebe. We leave the lurchers and cross back over road to continue back up track towards home, meeting mongrel pooch Pebble and her Mum. We happily chat about our respective Christmas days, in both of our cases the day dominated by keeping Mothers-in-Law happy. Having caught up with the local gossip me and my two continue on the path, noting that Hazel catkins have appeared alongside the path. We skirt around the bottom of Croft Hill rather than attempt another slippery ascent, and head for home.
We have lost the bitter easterly wind and so, despite thick mist under a slate-grey it actually feels relatively mild despite the temperature still hovering above zero. I start this morning’s walk by climbing up Croft Hill, hoping that yesterday ice has thawed sufficiently to allow my boots to grip, unlike yesterday. The ice has not thawed, but I manage to climb to the top before walking back down safely through the grass on the far side. We continue down towards the village, meeting a regular dog walker with a pair of Foxhounds. Since they are both on leads, I put my two on a lead, despite knowing that the Foxhounds are friendly – they on lead because off lead they would probably pick up a scent and be gone, following the scent deaf to the cried of their owner calling them back.
We pass the horses, waiting patiently behind the field gate for their breakfast. They neigh at us, expecting to be served, but are disappointed as we continue past. The dogs totally ignore the horses. A friend must put her spaniel on a lead when passing. There are often carrots in the field, and her dog is able to squeeze beneath the gate and steal them for a morning snack – my friend worries that her dog may be trampled beneath substantial hooves.
7th January 2026
Bright sunny intervals between white clouds scudding across a blue sky looked almost springlike from indoors, but there bitter and strong easterly wind, and the cloud carried occasional sleety-freezing rain showers. We met a cockapoo, and I wasn’t sure whether the owner was a regular or not – he was muffled up inside a large hood pulled over his face, and my greeting of “Morning! It’s a tad fresh today!” was met with “Its so COLD…” We both kept walking.
I start to ascend Croft Hill, but in these drier more open windswept surroundings there is no mud. Instead, the well-worn path is a sheet of ice over the track. I am back in wellies after a few days of wearing walking boots over frosty ground, and it difficult for my wellies to grip the ice, despite Vibram soles, and I walk on the rough grass to the side of the path. The hill is steeper on the far side, where I usually drop back down, and so halfway up I opted to cut across the grassy hillside back to the kissing-gate at the top of our Lane.
The ground has been frozen for a few days, and it has been a delight returning home with clean mud-free dogs, requiring just a wipe of paws with a towel before we could come inside into the warmth. Today the temperature was a degree or so above freezing, and he result is mud over ice, barely a centimetre or so of mud, but enough to splash onto the dogs, spraying up legs and under bellies. They will need a brief hose down when we get home
Back at home I had a problem. I have two muddy dogs, but the outdoor hose is still frozen. The dogs benefit – my only option is to wash them with warm water from a watering can, rubbing the mud away before retiring indoors for, in my case, coffee and one of the remaining Christmas mince pies.
5th January 2026
Twelth Night, when Christmas decorations should be down, but more importantly for we dog walkers, the day when sunrise begins to get earlier. Evenings have been getting lighter since well before Christmas, but mornings get lighter from today.
A month or so ago, from the top of Croft Hill, I noticed that there was a lot of sheep across the landscape, more than usual. In winter cattle are often brought indoors, but sheep are left outside, even, around here, when lambing, since their lighter weight is less likely to damage damp pasture. But then most fields were emptied of sheep. Maybe there was a seasonal increase of price and demand for lamb. Sheep are starting to appear again in some fields, possibly pregnant ewes prior to lambing – too early to tell.
Before we emerge from the enclosed trackways back onto turf tracks beside arable fields we pass a small stream, usually an opportunity for the dogs to have a dip and swim, but not today. Far too cold for paddling.
After 3 days of hard frost (-5C at sunrise) I decide to walk a route that is usually almost impassable at this time of year, thanks to deep squelchy mud. But to today we walk over the white-frosty ruts across the mud at several places along the paths, after first walking along the turf of the field track behind our home, past the old barn, noting a buzzard and heron flying low ahead. With thick gloves to be removed before raising the camera, it is not a day for wildlife photography, and I just appreciated watching both in flight, one gracefully gliding, the other languidly flapping.
It is the paths beyond the sheep that are notoriously muddy throughout winter, bridleways accessible by horse riders and mountain bikers – we don’t often come across either, but it doesn’t need many hooves or tyres to churn up the wet surfaces. But today the paths were a delight, solid, if bumpy, ground, the paths meandering between sparkling hedgerows.
And so back home along the frosty field tracks which are more regular and familiar routes at this time of the year. We may not have had the dump of snow experienced elsewhere in the UK after the last day or so, just an overnight sprinkling here, but it has been a glorious winter walk under a deep blue sky, a peaceful walk – no other dog walkers out and about on our route today
2nd January 2026
A cracking morning dog walk, a cold wind but a clear blue sky and bright winter sunshine, the ground frosty in places. The cold easterly wind of recent days has dried the muddy paths, and this, together with a touch of frost, means that the ground is firm, and there is a chance that I might get the dogs home clean. We walk through the spinney at the bottom of Croft Hill, and follow the steep path to the quarry edge, appreciating that we can walk over the rutted areas that at this time of the y/ear can be a bit of a quagmire, thanks to the popularity of this route with walkers and mountain bikes.
I see two people approaching, coming at us along the narrow path, out of the low sun that is directly in front of us. I realise that that they are runners, and I call the dogs to me and tell them to “Watch Me”. Generally, runners don’t appreciate being enthusiastically greeted by muddy Golden Retrievers, although today they are still clean, but these two runners breathlessly assure me that they are glad of an excuse to stop briefly to fuss the dogs – they both have dogs at home.
Further on we meet Trevor and Peter the Pugs. Their owner tells me that Peter has just been put on a diet – the vet has decreed that 15kg is a little too much for a dog of such small stature. Nevertheless, both Peter and Trevor are allowed treats from me, and my two demand treats from the owner of the pugs.
We descend through woodland, the steep and uneven path created a few years ago by mountain bikers. The entrance to path starts discretely a short distant from the quarry edge, close to ancient-looking standing stones, in fact just a few decades old, placed there at the top of the high artificial hill of spoil created around the quarry. The dogs run off into the trees, always visible among the bare sunlit trunks at this time of the year.
We emerge from the trees just above the river and wildlife ponds where a contractor is clearing levelling an area, previously thick with reeds and grasses – probably management of the environment rather than anything more destructive. We will see over the next few months. He uses an intriguing machine, a small remote controlled tracked vehicles with a digger/bucket on the front. In the summer I have seen the same item of plant being used to cut grass on steep hillsides, on that occasion with a mower on the front.
Passing the wildlife ponds, I cross an icy-slippery boardwalk and meet a mum and adult son. They are not accompanied by a dog but, like the runners, want to greet my two. Mum would like a dog, but her husband won’t have one. Too much fur, and too much of a tie. He has a point. By the time that we part and they head for the boardwalk, she is covered in white hairs from Sam, trying with limited success to dislodge most from her woollen gloves.
Our route continues along the wet lower path, puddles and mud frozen but not enough to support dogs’ paws. Their legs will need hosing when we get home.
