It’s all Russia’s fault, apparently. They say a giant painter was sploshing whitewash over Siberia and stopped to shake out his brush over Britain – or something like that.

Spring rolled into the calendar to be greeted with -10C (14F) and snow so powdery that it danced in the wind like leaves.

We have snow every winter in the North Downs, but this ‘beast from the east’ has been unusually greedy in swallowing the entire country just when the birds and flowers were coming alive. For the foxes, it is business as usual: dig up buried supplies and seek small rodents under the snow.

They hardly seem to notice the fierce windchill.

Roe deer are still in their dark winter coats, and blend into the leafless branches.

Snow is a beautiful challenge. It starts by painting the paths, and ends in waterfalls dripping through the trees.

But the grass is returning. Spring is ready to restart.