With a flick of the finger and a twist of the tail,
Come icy wind, blast and hail.
“I have not finished!” the winter cries,
“I am still breathing and very alive!”
Like a jilted lover, lacking restraint,
Her chilling voice wails her long complaint.
“Seduced are you by the charms of green.
While lost from memory, snow and the silent scene.
Easily enticed by the temporal scent of blossom.
The delicate frost all but forgotten.”
Her rant now over, her voice it pales.
She gathers her storm – its energy fails.
“No matter, when the autumn’s riotous colour greys.
I will return to darken your days.”
The weather has been a little odd lately. As if the winter can’t make up its mind what to do. I feel as if I have walked around with the warm sense of spring, smiling at the pleasures of prospective cool summer evenings. I had already begun to consider the flowing summer frocks I would wear.
While I was in Vienna this Easter, I had the opportunity to taste that summer excitement, cycling along the Donau Island in shorts! That part of the island I have never been to before. I was warned about the naturists area and sure enough, I had a visual introduction. The Europeans do not seem to have the same body fears as we English do. Things are free to dangle, drop and swing with no apparent concern, but always with discretion and in the appropriate place. I held on to my bicycle without the merest hint of a wobble, finished my circumnavigation and was able to sit out on the balcony that night, eating food and drinking white wine with no ill effects.
Back in the UK now, the warm clothes are back on. the blankets out and the temping sun, comes with an icy rap on the knuckles. Yes, somehow I sense the winter has not finished with us yet.