WHEN the snow lay on the ground, and when the earth was frozen but devoid of snow, we made sure our bird-feeders were replete with suitable food and our birdbath was full of water and ice-free.

The rewards were excellent. The variety of birds which came to our garden was truly wonderful to behold and their antics while feeding provided constant entertainment and education. One of the main tasks was to identify each species - for so many of us, such visitors are merely "birds" but in fact the distinctions are easily observed from the security of one's own home, with or without binoculars.

We've had lots of blue tits, for example, all displaying remarkable acrobatics as they have tackled the nuts and seeds in our feeders, but they've been joined by great tits and even by coal tits and the occasional long-tailed tit. Some people call great tits "black caps" which is not surprising because they do sport a rather smart black cap but the tiny coal tit is also distinguished by a black cap with somewhat sooty patches of white on the cheeks and nape of the neck.

Among the finches were greenfinches, chaffinches, goldfinches and bullfinches, while others included dozens of noisy house sparrows, a few quiet hedge sparrows, a pair of sparring robins, a blackbird with a white patch on his wing, two lovey-dovey collared doves and even a magpie which tried to perch on our window ledge.

I am sure some of these tiny birds relied upon our food and water when the snow and frost were at their most severe - and we are not yet halfway through this winter. A bird-feeder in the garden is an ideal means of helping them over the worst of the weather and at the same time enabling us to learn something about a fascinating aspect of wildlife which is so close to home.

A chat with some friends reminded me of the wealth of local stories which feature witch-hares. Although there are several such tales within the North York moors, similar ones can be found further afield. Sometimes, they feature animals other than hares but collectively, they form a very resilient part of our folklore.

The witch-hare stories follow a regular pattern. The basis of the tales is that witches were able to transform themselves into hares, and this belief persisted even into the early years of the last century. Stories of witch-hares are usually based on a regular set of circumstances - a hare is put up by hounds and flees towards a house occupied by a known or suspected witch. The hare manages to get inside the house but when the hunters follow it, they find it has been transformed into the human form of the suspected witch.

This is invariably confirmed when the woman reveals all the signs of being hunted or injured, such as panting heavily and bearing a wound in a leg where a hound inflicted a bite, or perhaps an injury caused by gunshot. In all cases, the witch provides a convincing explanation for her condition, but she is rarely killed by the gunshots or hounds because death of a witch-hare can only result from a silver bullet.

Among the stories is that of Jane Grear, a witch from Guisborough, who was badly bitten by a dog while galloping in the shape of a hare; Peggy Flaunders of Marske-by-Sea, who was hunted as a hare and bitten on the haunch (she died in 1835) and Jane Wood, a witch-hare who lived in Baysdale.

Nan Hardwicke lived near Danby in Yorkshire's Eskdale and, in her hare shape, she would squat among the heather until the local lads found her and flushed her out with hounds. Then they would chase her, but they never caught her. She was always fast enough and clever enough to outwit them. There is one story of Nan visiting a relation in Farndale and so that she could quickly cover the trek across the moors, she turned herself into hare. Another witch-hare was Nanny Pearson of Goathland who was out one day in the form of a hare, and was shot with a silver bullet fired by a man who was courting the squire's daughter. The hare was not killed but next day, Nanny was seen with corresponding injuries.

Another witch-hare was Awd Mally who lived in Westerdale. She was suspected of stealing milk and so the aggrieved farmer lay in wait his gun loaded with silver shot made from old buttons. But Mally spotted him as he lay in wait and immediately attacked him - an account says: "She cem at him wiv her een glooring and widening while they were as big as saucers", but this reaction so terrified the farmer than he threw down his gun and ran home to escape her.

Another tale, which still survives in the dialect of the time, concerns "no mere ordinary hare" which was biting the tops off young saplings near the dale head at Glaisdale. The angry farmer decided to lie in wait and shoot it.

Believing this might be a witch-hare, he loaded his gun with shot made from silver buttons, then concealed himself near the nursery of young trees. At the witching hour of midnight, a hare appeared and he described it as "a greeat foul awd ram cat of a heear" and said "it began knepping here and knepping there". A friend took up the story: "It wur studying how best ti deea t'maist ill in t'lahtlest tahm. Sae t'chap at wur watching, well, he up wiv his gun and aiming steady, he lat dhrive. My wod, but there was a flaysome shrike! At that, t'heear, sair shot, gat hersel' a sooart o' croppen oot o't'nossery and hoppled away as best she could, an' gat heeam at Aud Maggie's hoose-end, in a bit o' scroggs at grows on t'bank there."

Aud Maggie was a reputed witch and when the rough ground near her house was searched, nothing was found. The following day, however, she was found in bed with some injuries which she explained by saying she'd fallen on broken glass.

Among the other witches living on the moors was one at Farndale who could turn herself into a black dog, Sally Craggs o'Allerston who could turn herself into a cat and others such as Awd Kathy o' Ruswarp, Nan Scaife o' Spaunton Moor, Awd Mother Migg o' Cropton, who used a crystal, Esther Mudd o' Rosedale, who used the evil eye, Emma Todd o' Ebberston who was well off in matters of the black arts, Nancy Nairs o' Pickering who used a crystal, and Peggy Devell o' Hutton-le-Hole, who used a magic book.

One of the most enduring tales of witch-hares concerns Peg Humphrey of East Moors above Helmsley, and one story about her was related by the famous Bilsdale huntsman, Bobby Dowson, who died in 1902. His memorial is at the Sun inn.

The tale followed the regular pattern of a hare dashing into a house for safety, and the woman, Peg, then being found with corresponding injuries, but I have an account from the grandson of a friend of Peg Humphrey who corrects that 1860 story. It shows that Peg was nothing more than a simple and very ordinary country woman who would have a cup of tea with my correspondent's granny, but it also shows how, even until fairly recently, superstition could gain such a powerful hold over gullible people.

Even though North Yorkshire has been declared free from foot-and-mouth disease, restrictions remain in place upon many rights of way and footpaths within the region. This is especially the case on many farms where livestock was culled owing to infection or dangerous contacts, and these restrictions will remain in place until a secondary disinfection and cleansing process has been completed. This will be done as a precautionary measure, to prevent the return of the disease, and the restrictions could remain in force for as long as 12 months.

In spite of this, there have been further reports of ramblers and hikers tearing down notices and ignoring them as they have decided to re-use footpaths previously forbidden due to the disease. It is very difficult to understand the mentality of such people and one can only hope they will appreciate the possible harm that might come from their irresponsibility. Maybe country people should coin a new phrase - "A request to roam responsibly" - and display such notices on all our footpaths and rights of way