Setting off to the bus stop where the Faery catches her school bus, we noticed the the grass was dusted in frost. I made sure to go for a stroll around one of the nearby bays while Miss Pie was at preschool, and I was mesmerised by the frosted, sparkling landscape. This morning was much the same, but with an even thicker frost and white rooftops everywhere.
This isn't the first time I've encountered heavy frost - after all, J and I spent nearly five years in the U.K. - but when you're in your twenties and rushing to catch the next train to work, sometimes nursing a hangover from the previous night's pub shenanigans, frost isn't really a detail that bleeps largely on the radar. It's there, but not that interesting. Just bloody cold. I do remember one time though, stepping over a puddle and realising it was frozen. Naturally, out of curiosity, I stepped back and onto the puddle... and promptly slipped over onto my arse. I then managed to slip on the exact same puddle two more times that week. Alcohol wasn't even involved; I'm just clumsy at the best of times.
But I digress. One of the things about having kids is you get to see the world through their eyes. Frost is very much a new thing for my daughters, and to watch them touch it, step on it, and feel the grass crunch beneath their feet... is a lot of fun. I wonder how long the novelty will last?