Every cold winter day, my mother would ask, “Is there hoar frost?” Of course the first time I had to ask her what it was; but once you’ve seen it, you can’t unsee it. It is surely one of nature’s most amazing works of art.
There have been several mornings lately that it was probably out there—suspected when a Seattle friend posted photos from the north—but I didn’t want to get dressed and leave my cozy chair to go look. Or maybe the sunrises lately have just been more than enough. Can your heart burst from too much beauty?
Today was no exception, but this afternoon I noted when I drove up the driveway, that my garden in the meadow had escaped the weak sun in the cloudless sky and was still frosty. When I returned from my errands, I went to check it out before embarking on today’s mission to move some wood from the partly cut up downed tree to the woodpile.
And not to slight the fauna, at the woodlot I found more art: woodworm, nature’s carvers.