“Clouds of mist were rising from the still oily river, blowing across the marshes where some cattle in a line were following a cart from which a man tossed rimy beet on to the frozen grass. Little groups of bullocks stopped at every pile, betraying themselves by clouds of steam breathing from their nostrils.” ⎯On English Lagoons, At Buckenham Ferry: Chapter XII, p. 42

On a frost-covered Broadland field, a farmer with trusty dog at his side uses a pitchfork to feed cattle with beetroot plants ferried behind him on a horse-drawn cart.