The garden had gone quiet, silenced by the thick blanket of white that fell from the grey clouds. Near the crimson wall, the grey Cat sat motionless. Her thick fur, a tapestry of storm cloud hues and soft creams, caught the snowflakes as they drifted down. She was a statue of patience, her paws tucked neatly beneath her, enduring the chill with a stoic grace. She looked like a spirit of the season, unbothered by the biting wind, simply waiting for the world to settle.
But stillness could not hold her curiosity forever. As the flakes grew larger, dancing in the air like dust motes in a sunbeam, she moved away from the wall. The texture of the ground had changed, soft and crunching beneath her weight. She stopped in the middle of the yard, surrounded by the old brickwork.
Suddenly, the Cat looked up. Her eyes, bright and alert, tracked the slow descent of the ice crystals. They were not just weather, they were tiny, moving things to be understood. With snowflakes resting on her whiskers and brow, she watched the sky fall, mesmerized by the beautiful, silent motion of the winter world.
Shannon Willis can usually be found in the company of furry friends. A passionate animal enthusiast, her work is often inspired by her deep love for cats, dogs, and the animal kingdom as a whole.
