Winter Art

Winter Art. (Fimbulvinter) 1947, mother of all winters, our oak dinner table ended up as firewood...kept us warm for days. A deep frozen feline stood on the top of the bin, a clawed outstretched paw, staving off frosts attack. Days it stood there an epic symbol of valiant, if hopeless struggle, - brutal art- admired, but also pelted with snowballs by impish children. Thaw, winter lost its grim grip, the moggy crumbled fell off its pedestal. The bin lid, opened nature’s glory ended up among potato peels and other things discarded without a second thought.