Baubles and thrift

It was 7 degrees F when I got up this morning and let my dogs out in the yard. I had to bundle up in my barn coat and hat to go outside as well because 7 degrees is just too cold to leave dogs out on their own. Paws could freeze. Great sadness would ensue.

A large patch of my wooden deck shimmered with black ice, sprinkled in frosty crystal patterns—my reward for braving the cold. It reminded me of beauty and danger, which made me happy for reasons I can’t quite explain. I even wrote a little nothing of a poem about it. Continue reading