Sparkling

This weekend, we moved effortlessly from the world of new snowfall into a place of rain and slush, and thence into the realm of ice. Temperatures plummeted during the night, and when we awakened this morning, the whole world was crisp and sunlit and sparkling.

Autumn's fallen leaves are deep underfoot, and they crackle in their ice shawls gloriously. Today, the trees overhead are wearing ice, diamonds and fiery opals - they are all decked out in holiday ornaments, and they are something truly wondrous to behold. As the wind shakes the ice coated branches of the old ash trees, there is the splendid tinkling music of icicles being dislodged from their perches and tumbling headlong into the garden.

The world is blue, crystalline and silver, and everything beyond the windows seems to be in energetic dancing motion. I could watch the mystery play or pageant from the windows here all day long, but the Lanark Highlands are beckoning, and my wild friends there will be hungry. We are off to the woods this morning to feed the deer and the birds, but before I did anything else at all, I just had to go out and admire my sparkling garden for a while.