The Conservatory Garden in Winter

The young boy played his flute, calling to birds; his companion lifted a snow-laden bowl where they might drink.  While sparrows flitted near in search of seeds, not one came to visit this snowbound pair.

Three maidens danced in a frozen whirl.  The fountain was missing its triumphant plume, and the pool below was filled with snow.

While still a fine place for city walking, the grand garden seemed off-kilter.  Color, dazzling in other seasons, was confined to muted tones of white, brown, and gray, leavened only with a bit of ivy or yew clinging to green.

Shapes were muted, too:  snow blunted carefully sculpted bushes, tree limbs carried snowy shrouds, and snow commandeered the benches where one might sit and admire the view.

We knew, when fall’s glorious colors came on, they wouldn’t last.  We knew the profusion of mums would wither soon enough.  The dancing maidens knew it, too, and picked up their step.

But we also know that winter, as inevitably as it began, will end.  The little piper and his companion will shake off their snow, the dancing maidens will revel in the coming warmth, and the garden will reawaken into spring.