Thursday, January 22, 2015
I looked up 'hoar frost' and it's a complicated explanation for us non-meterological types but I think the best way to described it is that a hoar frost is winter's dew. Instead of water droplets on blades and branches, we see ice crystals.
"That means there's a thaw coming," my husband added. "There must be. When I was out on the deck with my coffee, I heard the freight train rumbling through Oxford Junction. They say that's a sign of a thaw coming, when sound travels like that."
The dogs woke us early so we all got up and I made them breakfast. Then, instead of waiting for the day to warm, we went for our walk early, inside the crystal palace of the tree plantation. No sparkles this morning; no sun but also no wind. It was very quiet and very peaceful. Like something is coming. Snow, a thaw, spring.
My favourite time of the day in my favourite place.
Last winter, the deep snow made for its own kind of beauty but it was less accessible for walking with the dogs; this year, the ice snakes along the ground beneath our feet, creating in the grooves left by the four-wheeler. The sleepless night made me feel off-balance, not the feeling you want when walking on ice, but the cold air felt good on my bare head, taking the edge off the pain.
Maybe spring doesn't need to come yet.