Frostbite

When I lived in the country, frosts during winter were a common occasion. The dewy magic became something I took for granted and I saw it more as a bother than something completely beautiful. I remember one year there was a night where the temperature dropped to minus seven degrees. Everything was frozen over, it's been the closes to snowing than I've seen. Our water wasn't working, our heater barely defrosted our icy feet and noses and my fish tank had frozen over, freezing my poor siamese fighting fish called, Angel, in mid swim.
When I moved to Geelong three years ago, a winter came and went again without me noticing the absence of the icicles on the front lawn. It wasn't until I stayed a couple of nights out at Paul's house on the surf coast that I truly saw and appreciated something I never knew I missed. I woke up early one morning, surprised to see that Paul's back garden was covered in white. I eagerly pulled on my boots and trudged outside with the crackles of grass blades breaking beneath my strides. I'd forgotten the beauty and wonder of little ice particles clinging to leaves and rose petals before turning into fresh dew. I'd forgotten how a car freezes over with enough ice on a windshield to open a snow cone business. I rediscovered the magic and beauty of winter.

Last Sunday, we experienced the first frost of the season that was accompanied by a very foggy and beautiful morning. The weather here recently has been lovely. We had a week of rain and sogginess which has been followed by warmer days with sunshine. It's unseasonably warm but it's a more beautiful winter than two I have previously experienced while living here. I took a few photos of Paul's garden just as the sun was shining over the grass and everything was melting.