Dew on the ground is magical. Whole worlds are captured in each drop.
Yet a few degrees colder at night and frost offers us a different world entirely.
The cast on the landscape shifts from light sparkling reflections to a silvery pall that evaporates more rapidly as the sun strides across the hillside.
A few more degrees, and the frost wins more time in its race with the sun.
Our first frost, which merely etched the edge of foliage, appeared on Saturday.
And the only place to see its beauty was in the shadows.
There’s a metaphor in there…
Pause. See differently. Re-story