Cold winter mornings. Bright sunlight beaming in rays and sweeping across the horizon. Grass crusted so hard with intricate crystals of ice that crunches and crumbles when you set foot across it.
The way the pearly white sheen suddenly brings life and beauty to the mundane.
Fingertips numb and noses all red, cheeks a-flush. Breath billowing with every word spoken. An involuntary tear shed with the cold wind. Runny noses. Mittens, or thick gloves. Scarf up to your chin.
Sparkles and glints of light dance here and there.
Have you been making the most of the cold mornings?
Sophie
