I've written TPHP as the rest is so long and my hands are so cold...
...now we have winter settling in for quite a spell I suspect!
...the frost came and painted the garden with his secret, silent brush marks over night...
... and so I crept in and caught them before the weak winter sun climbed high enough to take his eraser and wipe them out.....
...so ephemeral and fragile are they...
...the lonely wheelbarrow...
...chiaroscuro in the box hedge...
...geometric patterns ....
...tricot edges embroidered on to winter leaves...
...white birch trunks glow...
...especially when that low winter sun hits them...
...then nothing can actually stop the progress of life returning...
...even in the hardened earth...roses bloom...
