Just like fashion the garden has its seasonal collections.
We have just had the September issue with its glorious reds, oranges and yellows and now we are going into the winter collection.
The winter couture collection is designed by 'Snow' and modelled by statuary.
The cat's walk is more of a prance as the tabby struts it's stuff down the garden runway of ice.
Our gaze is demure and downcast. We do not look you in the eye. Our thoughts are dreamlike and frozen in a suspended time frame of sleepy dormancy. We are silently eloquent and elegant.
We are hiding secrets and perfect forms beneath our brilliant white fur ruffs, ermines and millinery.
We always like to look our best, for even in a cold , frigid , flowerless garden one never knows who may come calling.
Our finery glistens and sparkles in the sunlight and we enjoy our moment in the sun.
But our clothes do not even last a season before they become rags and tatters , cloaks and hats become scarves as they trail and melt down over our grey forms. We cry tears of ice and watery diamond droplets as we transform ourselves into emperor's new clothes for springs' rude awakening.
This article was published in the wonderful What the Dickens-http://wtd-magazine.com/ p39 -It's called The Winter Collection. Published on the 1st December in The Snow Edition.