I love the image, and it reminds me of this poem, by Thomas Hardy, which I also love. Andy introduced it to me and reads it to me sometimes, and it always brings a tear to my eye.
Every branch big with it,
Bent every twig with it;
Every fork like a white web-foot;
Every street and pavement mute:
Some flakes have lost their way, and grope back upward when
Meeting those meandering down they turn and descend again.
The palings are glued together like a wall,
And there is no waft of wind with the fleecy fall.
A sparrow enters the tree,
A snow-lump thrice his own slight size
Descends on him and showers his head and eye
And overturns him,
And near inurns him,
And lights on a nether twig, when its brush
Starts off a volley of other lodging lumps with a rush.
The steps are a blanched slope,
Up which, with feeble hope,
A black cat comes, wide-eyed and thin;
And we take him in.
Some of the pages in the book are graph tracing paper, and when you paint on them with watercolour, the paint fills the squares but is resisted by the lines, so you get a chequered, pixellated look to some areas. A happy accident.
I continue to love the pogo! I have used it a lot in this book, especially in the last two weeks as we were on holiday, and there were just so many pictures I wanted in my journal. I am going to post two pages a day I think, until I have caught up with myself!