Winter. Even the evergreens appear gloomy and a little yellow. The late autumn chop of the pittosporum golf and golden balls refuses to die and mulch, sitting on the frozen ground as fresh and snipped as when it was clipped. Frozen in time. The grass, frosted daily, is also yellowish and rather sad. The sun is rising earlier now, defrosting the frost and warming up the little buds I now see on the cherry tree. Daffodil tips emerge, surprising me with survival from their dormancy.