One morning he had lost his hat but another was soon provided; and then on another morning (horror of horrors) he had lost his head! I mean this quite literally. What to do? Clearly it was imperative to "find" another head quickly and thus restore that sense of enjoyment that he had given me and presumably to passers-by until one had attacked him probably without provocation. By the time I'd dressed, had my breakfast and gone outside, the situation had changed dramatically. What had happened? My friend's head had been restored and he was once again standing sentinel and providing renewed enjoyment to all.
Sadly, successive days provided more trouble. His hat went missing again: then his scarf and this time they were not replaced. Then I noticed one morning that his smiling face was, well how can I put this, no longer smiling. It took me a moment to realise that his lips were missing.
But despite these adventures he continued for what now seems ages to provide me with a warm sense of winter wellbeing which took me back to my own childhood when a friend like this stood in my own family's garden.
Then I noticed a gradual change in his appearance on successive mornings. My wife "helpfully" suggested that it might be something to do with the thaw! Insensitive comments like this do not necessarily help when I'm captivated in a fast-disappearing winter wonderland. Alas, I had to concede that she was right.
So morning after morning my icy friend's appearance diminished and so did his size - my Doctor might describe it as a "rapid loss of weight." But this morning he has gone completely! I am bereft! What will gladden my heart for the rest of this Winter as I gaze out at the start of another day? Dare I dare to hope that I will see my friend again - on balance I hope he comes back - if only, perhaps, for a fleeting visit.