A Winter Scene
The snow had fallen layer upon layer and the frozen street had become a dance floor for high spirited, smiley, happy, rosy red cheeked people who glided over the ice as if their feet were a brush and the ice a canvas.
Whirling and turning, twisting
and swirling, each round and round the other.
Sliding then bumping, laughing, emitting their long vaporised breaths.
Wriggling brightly coloured scarves appeared to take on life-forms of their own.
The old lady peered out of her window overlooking this scene.
Sixty five years earlier she had painted her picture with her feet on an earlier canvas of ice. Suddenly, time dissolved and she became part of the picture.