The weather unfit for Beast. Man is silly. He trudges out to do things in the snow. Woman, too. They push the white drifts about in piles. Struggling through the cold wind. Frigid Futility.
This cat does not follow.
Cat Paws will not touch the ICE. COLD. Stinging sleet....
Cat will hideaway inside with Warmth. On this hideaway day.
Hideaway inside til outside is fit again for Beast.
Too COLD for this cat. Indoors, it is chill along the edges and crisp upon the whiskers. Outdoors is less of a friend. The wind bites and howls.
Wait, I do, upon the chilly threshhold. Paws are tucked in close, as I listen for the voice of my newest best friend.
A Rush and a Rumble announce the arrival of her - and I fly fast as thought to crouch at her side - she is Warmth and she breathes in the corner of the living room. I flatten against the hot register and revel in Warmth's marvellous breath upon my fur.
In Winter, She is my dearest friend. The heat run.
The Wind tells me to lay low. To slink beneath the house or better yet to hide inside its sturdy walls. Frost has long since bitten the leaves to brown, the grass is stiff and colorless. Grey dominates the landscape. The Cold stings my paws as I hurry along the stone walkway.
Hurry, Hurry. Ignore the birds. Pass by the mice in the foundation. Resist the hunt. Find warm sanctuary from the Storm.
Black and white behind the kitchen window, nose pressed in worry to the glass. I watch from inside and wait. Wait. Wait.....
December makes me tuck my paws in close under my chest as the wind ruffles my fur. I wait on the stoop for birds to come close while the sun sinks low in the sky. This is my third winter and not as favorable in my eyes as the spring or summer.
My black and white furstands out against every landscape, as I sit here handsomely and wait for the ones who wear shoes to let me inside where it is warm.
I wink at you, good reader, with eyes of Jade, until my paws touch keys again.