From afar, the field gleams icy-white, and when I arrive the ground is crunchy underfoot. The black oat and barley stalks are brittle and more of a pale gold, thick and glistening with the hoarfrost – the open and empty seedpods of the fodder radish too. A chaffinch pecks atop a head of millet, and soon I’m watching charms of finches fly down from the surrounding birches to disappear in the vegetation. Some birds alight on the stalks, and when they take off again they’re joined by 20 to 30 more birds that have been skulking below.