We awoke on Monday morning to the first savage frost of the winter.
Clothed in white, the garden looked spectacularly inviting. The frost stayed all day and reminded me of my favourite childrens’ book The Selfish Giant by Oscar Wilde. ‘Spring has forgotten this garden,’ they cried, ‘so we will live here all the year round.’ The Snow covered up the grass with her great white cloak, and the Frost painted all the trees silver. Then they invited the North Wind to stay with them, and he came. He was wrapped in furs, and he roared all day about the garden, and blew the chimney-pots down.” Very thankfully the North Wind didn’t visit our garden, so it was quiet and still, sparkling and cold.