Frozen

Waking up to a sky that is barely light, I peer out the eastern window.  A fairyland of wintry magic is out there.  In a hurry, I grab a few bites of breakfast washed down with scalding coffee, bundle up in layers, tie a scarf around my neck, and with my camera in my hand rush out to record this magical landscape before the warmth of the sun melts its frosty wonder.

It is so amazing what a little moisture on plants and buildings and fence posts can do.  Each tiny drop immediately becomes a frozen masterpiece when the temperature is just right.  I don't understand why some mornings are like this.  I imagine it has something to do with how saturated the night air is.  Our hilltop is often 'dewy' in the morning.  And when we have a night when the thermometer goes below freezing we awake to a sparkling new world.

Each common weed is clothed in fabric fit for a king or queen,  Tree branches bear frosty outlines that are something out of Currier and Ives print.  And the whole field full of gently swaying plumes of grass has become a symphony of dazzling light and glory. 

You can almost hear the angels singing.  Welcome to heaven.  Here on earth.