Jack Frost
By C.E. Pike

Look out! Look out!
Jack Frost is about!|
He’s after our fingers and toes;
And all through the night,
The gay little sprite
Is working where nobody knows.

He’ll climb each tree,
So nimble is he,
His silvery powder he’ll shake.
To windows he’ll creep
And while we’re asleep
Such wonderful pictures he’ll make.

Across the grass
He’ll merrily pass,
And change all its greenness to white.
Then home he will go
And laugh ho, ho ho!
What fun I have had in the night.

The young sprite dropped in for a sleep-over last night, but he must have got restless and wandered outside with his icy wand, frolicking around the garden and the neighbour's sprinkler line.

The Weatherman has been forecasting his visit for the last few days, so he didn't arrive unexpectedly. A couple of days ago I gathered up the geraniums and potted them, and now they sit on the window sill in the big bathroom, preparing to brighten up November, which is the gloomiest of months.



I picked the roses and the green tomatoes and brought them in to safety.

Nevertheless the Frosty Fellow did a job on the tenderest of my annuals, the nasturtiums. They were a lovely big pot of round green leaves with bright oranges and reds and yellows peeping out between the greenery.



Now they have been completely devastated....



Around the corner and up the hill where the neighbour had her sprinklers running Jack left a frosty fairyland glistening in the morning sun. It stayed this way all day as I believe the rascal has just wandered off a little way to sleep in the sunshine and will be back tonight to see what other mischief he can stir up.



It is too soon. The Chrysanthemums have still not bloomed, there are apples to be picked and a lot of fall work to attend to. Hopefully this will be just a 'touch of Frost' and he will be on his way, back up the mountain where he is supposed to be painting leaves and doing other creative things that bring pleasure from afar..