The seasons change

 

Subject: The seasons change





As the season changes there’s a nip in the air, the trees loose their leaves and the garden takes on a more bedraggled look. The sight of a hedgehog brought much excitement yesterday as my next door neighbour and I discussed the frogs her cats carry live and unhurt indoors. Frogs and hedgehogs are from that outer group of co residents who live nearby, out of sight, themselves a whole world away from the worms and slugs who are starting to batten down for winters hibernation. The birds migrate to Africa leaving only the stalwart Robin to brave the snow. Such a fearless cheeky bird, he stands only a pace away contesting the space you both occupy, not in the slightest bit perturbed by your size and unpredictability he thrusts out his red chest as if to say, come on then test me.

The plants withdraw and the weeds die back as the earth cools and then freezes, this seasonal dance of life and death which we, in our artificiality have no fear. Perhaps this year will be different with the high price of gas, perhaps the more vulnerable will die for lack of heating, the sleepers in the doorways or under the bridges, the ones too tired to care any more, made desperate by the gnawing of hunger, knowing that yesterday, today and tomorrow will be the same.