We’ve had our first dusting of snow today. The Grinds seem to have pulled themselves in ready for the freezing onslaught of sub-zero temperatures, and then pushed themselves back again because of the rain that seems to have been brought along for good measure.
The Lake’s completely hidden; come to think of it most of the Grinds are too.
Maybe it was more than a dusting.
The Mansion’s stones seem darker compared to the sheer brilliance of the surrounding whiteness, and shards of bare branches poke hither and thither, pointing upwards, leftwards and any other waywards they please, repelling any random snowflake that decides to rest upon them. Other trees and bushes seem to welcome the flakes with open branches, covering and wrapping themselves in a thick blanket of snow.
Winter’s here.
Tomorrow, it will be different again.
Possibly.
Perhaps.
The Mansionic Perspective 
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