What is it about sunlight skittering across the frosty grass that has me racing for my wellies?
Only half-awake and with dawn just peeping over the horizon, I approach the curtains with a mixture of excitement and trepidation. Will the promised ‘cold snap’ materialise? Or will the weather reporters in all their enthusiasm yet again disappoint? For once not.
A soft white mist envelops the landscape as if a giant icy puff rests all around us. Peering further I spy mystical mirage of white spiky trees, gentle tumbles of frost on fir trees, thin layer of snow covering the road and pavement. A single track of tyres the only mark of activity so far.
Two hours later the sun has warmed the air ever so slightly and I don my boots and head out.
Without moving house I’ve been transported to a village transformed. With relish my eyes feast on the crisp white bushes, with relish I smash my feet through the icy puddles. Without my son by my side to excuse my childish behaviour I take a sheepish glance around. No one in sight and I safely reach for a hefty stick; its damp bark making green blotches along my new gloves. Never mind. With a quick toss I whirl the stick in an arc onto the glacial surface of the lake. Like the sunlight at the break of day, it too skitters along. Frightening a lone duck in its path before coming to a solitary stop. The kid inside me cheers ‘hooray’ and eggs me on to try again. I reign in childish self – for now.
Oh yes, the writing. There is a link, albeit a tenuous one. As part of my story is set during two winters when temperatures dip below -40ºC I felt I should take full advantage of a frosty morn to immerse myself in such dire conditions. I know, -2ºC on a sunny morning is hardly the same. Still…Also, there is nothing like sun, snow and splashes to recharge my fatigued soul after a weekend of birthday parties.
Go ahead, if a frosty morn wakes you, greet it full on. Release the big kid that resides in all of us. Enjoy.
“For happiness, how little suffices for happiness!…the least thing precisely,
the gentlest thing, the lightest thing, a lizards rustling, a breath,
a wisk, an eye glance – little maketh up the best happiness.
By Friedrich Nietzsche