While the rest of the country is covered in snow, the flat Fylde coast escapes.
It’s a weird sensation walking on frozen, slippery sand. Jack Frost has sprinkled glitter in the dips and furrows left behind by the sea. Salty puddles are iced over. It must have been a cold night.
Sunlight creates shadowy patterns, and I think of hot waffles with maple syrup and salted caramel ice cream.
The mountains of North Wales and the Lake District are snow-capped. There’s an icing-sugar dusting of snow over the Bowland Fells and across the Ribble towards Winter Hill. Breathtakingly beautiful.
And what have we got? Just a glorious, sunny day and spectacular views.