It was warm, as it tended to be this time of year.
But the nest in the ancient sprawling tree was ringed by frost and icy mist.
There was an unsuccessful attempt to climb up to see, but the trunk was too slippery.
A ladder was considered, but great-grandpa put his foot down, "No, we leave out some berries, and come back tomorrow."
He supervised the children with glee, hobbling into the machan with them to watch the fairies' first flight.