Well, it wasn't a white Christmas, but the weather turned much colder just afterwards and the north had snow. It looked as though West Somerset would miss it all ... but there were surprises in store.

On December 29 I decided to go to Tiverton on the 398 bus. It was a dark, dull morning in Minehead and looked like rain, but I felt like a little outing.

I could see snow on the Quantocks and once through Dunster there was more snow visible on the flanks of Dunkery, but nothing had prepared me for the winter wondlerland at Wheddon Cross.

Wheddon Cross, one of the highest villages on Exmoor, often acts as a dividing line for weather with milder weather o the Minehead side and a different world on Exmoor! Over the years I have learnt never to expect the same weather on the moors as at the seaside and always go prepared with extra warm clothing in the boot of the car. Even in summer it can sometimes be some 10 degrees cooler on the moors.

No sign of snow in Minehead — but Wheddon Cross had obviously had a snowfall of about two inches to judge from parked cars. The fields were white and hedgerows and trees had snow clinging to every twig, bringing a rare delicate beauty to the scene.

I do love snow! It's so beautiful and transforms even the most common-place landscape into fairyland. I love to look at it ... just so long as I haven't got to go and sweep paths and worry about freezing pipes or gutters that might fall down! Snow without responsibility is wonderful.

Once past Wheddon Cross it was snow all the way to Tiverton. The roads were clear and the bus did not seem to have any difficult even on the narrow country lanes around Morebath — but for all that I was glad I had chosen to come by bus and not taken my car. I could relax and enjoy the beauty of the countryside now and not have to worry about icy patches on the road.

A shoot was getting underway at Bridgetown with Land Rovers parked by the pub, guns being loaded, dogs straining at the leash, breath steaming out in the cold air. Not a pheasant in sight for miles around ... but several in view when we neared Dulverton, their bright colours looking more brilliant than ever against the snow.

Woods looked fantastic with every tree outlined in snow, branches as intricate as white lace. Deciduous trees looked almost ethereal, conifers magnificently sturdy draped with snow.

When I got to Tiverton I wished the journey could have lasted longer, the scenery had looked so beautiful. I was disappointed to find the market was closed until New Year ... but I had a browse around the shops, especially Banburys ... and I wouldn't have missed that snowy journey for anything!

When I returned on an early afternoon bus the sun had come out and the snow had gone from the trees and hedgerows. The fields were still white, and sun added brilliance to the snowy landscape — but the delicate magic of the morning was lost.

However, it was still a lovely drive home and I had a brief glimpse of four deer in one of the snowy fields, showing up well against the dazzling whiteness.

The next day was Sunday when my friend and I usually go out for a pub lunch and a walk ... would there still be a snowy wonderland I wondered.

The sun had done its work well and much of the snow had gone ... but north facing fields and those low in the valley that did not get any sun were still white with snow.

After a good lunch at the Badgers Holt we decided to go to Wimbleball for a spot of winter birdwatching.

The fields by Bessom Bridge were clear of snow, but those by the Yacht Club were still white. Most of the snow appeared to have blown off Haddon Hill.

The Canada geese were back — in full force, some 40 birds on the lake. Oddly enough there were three pure white geese with them ... farmyard birds that had felt the call of the wild perhaps, for there are no pure white wild geese in Britain and they lacked the black primaries of snow geese.

Some coots lined up along the shore and a lone optimistic robin in the car park ... and then the snow showers started.

We sat in the car and watched the dark cloud scud across the lake, veiling the hills with snowflakes as it went. It did not last long and the sun came out again ... but more dark clouds approaching made us set off for home early.

Brighter weather at Wheddon Cross encouraged us to try and go over Dunkery. Quite a few hardy walkers out making the most of the wintry sun, no sign of any deer although a friend of mine had seen some fine stags two days previously.

The slopes of Dunkery were still dusted with snow, the last of the winter wonderland (until the next time!).