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Frosty Morning


The air was crisp against my face, the ground crunched with ice underfoot. I looked up at the dawn brightening sky, attempting to determine why this morning was lovely when others had merely been cold. It was certainly not the task which occupied my hands. Pulling a garbage can to the curb is arguably the least-lovely of possible tasks. The sky had no explanations for me, just a broad expanse, pink tinged at the edges. The difference then, must be in me if the sky, cold, and ice were unchanged from days prior. This morning I carried with me a soul ready to appreciate and see the beauty when other mornings I focused on my steps and task. Work focus is so often necessary in a world where productivity is survival. Yet the tiny pause in appreciation of the frosty sky did not impede the completion of a mundane task. It elevated it. And I returned to warmth and light a little better for knowing the frost.

2 comments to Frosty Morning

  • Ben Hunsinger

    thank you. And being able to respond again is shiny.

  • Rose Owens

    Picture probably does not do the morning justice. But thanks for sharing it. I don’t miss the cold or the slush here in California, but I do miss walking at dusk in new-fallen snow and watching fluffy flakes float down around me.