frost
This morning, the cold broke and shattered all over the ground. It was first frost this morning, crisp and cold. The world was white wrapped in white, the mist still rising from the warm streams and rivers and blanketing the valley in cloud. On the ground, the slight slick of ice coated every blade of grass. The spiderwebs hung ruined from the pillars of the bridge, their delicate strands frozen into mineature icicles.

Another cold, clear day. Someone up there above the mist likes me and is sending us the late fall weather from the Midwest. Yum.