Sic transit gloria

Isaiah 40:6
The voice said, Cry. And he said, What shall I cry? All flesh is grass, and all the goodliness thereof is as the flower of the field:
7 The grass withereth, the flower fadeth:

One certain thing about this natural world of ours (including ourselves, of course) is mutability. When the snow comes in these parts we see that process happening in a matter of days. Beautiful, fresh, sparkling snow - becomes sludge and slush, mud, and "ways be foul" (as W.Shakespeare said).

The spot just to the right is where a dear lady dramatically demolished our wall in ice last winter - sadly in my pre-blips days! You can possiblly just see the newer piece of sandstone copeing! So far this year the wall has survived, but today's weather could not claim to be a winter wonderland.

On the plus side, as if by magic the roads and pavements are full of men in yellow jackets with mini-snow ploughs and tons of salt. I don't know where they have been till now - but they are making a dramatic difference to the challenge of getting around.