The Thaw…

After several days of freezing temperatures the mercury slowly began to rise reversing the snowy-spell that had be-fallen much of the south.

At Footlights I noticed my holly bush had caught drops of water from the roof and they’d turned into icicles to adorn the evergreen.

As the day moved on and crept to 33º the dangling droplets let go of their grip on the leaves and fell, with a rhythmic drip, to the pathway below.


There was no sunlight yet which would have cascaded through the miniature stalactites and thrown a rainbow of colour over our house…but we were slowly turning around and the worst of the weather was leaving the area in a hazy cloud that did not lighten our hearts.

We needed the sun!

I went for a walk, still bundled up with face coverings, and came upon the familiar slushy remains of virgin snow, along the road,

SnowD6Thawmemories of London where the snow doesn’t linger either but all too quickly turns the roads, pavements and verges to an ugly, muddy, melting, mush.

Only a few days before the 0º freeze had draped my spreading live-oak with a sequinned coat of ice transforming it into a glimmering vision fit for a fairy tale,


snow spread thickly underfoot, a hush inviting wonderment and sleigh bells.

All too soon the Midas touch had fled leaving the tree brown and forlorn,


The dual force of Mother Nature at her most radiant and destructive.

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