[Winter draws on was an awful Edwardian pun, innocently enjoyed by my grandmother] [= 'Drawers' a now-unused name for underwear].
Rain came with its heavy sound - pounding on the snowy ground, the roof, the road - washing away the residues of grit and salt, no doubt to poison the grass and the creatures dipping into puddles for a drink.
The spatulate fingers of neighbouring trees appear a warmer shade of brown in the sunshine. Every plumped up bird sheltering from the cold in an uncomfortable proximity along the branches has flown elsewhere.
All our previously-rejected offerings on the new bird-table look pretty forlorn and unappetising - but the little black dog sniffs hopefully around the base: how deep the instinct to scavenge goes!
Endless pps emails arrive from the heated summer of Oz and NZ, of densely snowed-in vehicles in Canada/Scandinavia - which seems slightly like coals-to-Newcastle in the circumstances, but may help them to feel cool, or superior!