Outside our bedroom window.

The seasons have changed as if a mechanic pulled a lever.

Flecks of snow bounced on the kids yesterday as we walked home from school.

In the thuggish cold, in an overcoat, gloves, scarf and snow boots, I bravely declind a hat.

The evil night crawled down my collar until the flesh was chilled like fridge meat.

Then as we lounged snugly inside this morning fat chunky snowflakes floated lightly past, while the kids stared in wonder. "It's Christmas!" Maria said.


Watching the winter begin.

As you lay snugly in the mild Antipodean pre-summer heat dreaming of barbecues and beaches (*Wellington readers excepted, of course) fat flakes tumbled into our street for an hour or so