She nodded. "Let's go to the other side of the river, if you'd like another story. Well, it's not a bad one; many years ago a woman came to check on the history of her family tree, walked along looking at Micklegate Bar, thinking of a relative whose head had placed on it. Sarah shivered as Alex grabbed her arm. The woman was looking down where there used to be a moat, and suddenly went icy cold and couldn't move."

Brown beech leaves curl.
Scurry along in the breeze as if in play
to settle amid the cheery yellowness
of daffodils and primroses.
Celandines appear from nowhere
mingling in the verdancy
of the fresh young beech leaves
adding to the show.
Foretelling sunshine and spring.