My inclination on cold winter mornings is to linger in my cosy bed with a cup of tea and a book. This retirement life allows for such glorious decadence and the pandemic restrictions mean, in some ways, there's little to get up for. When I do make the effort to go out early though, it usually proves worth it. A succession of icy, frosty mornings around the New Year transformed the usual local scenes into a soft wonderland of pastel hues and hazy light.
Oxo cube and two slices of bread in pocket, blouson flying open in the wind as I raced with my bike along the towpath to swing a bridge for "my" barge as it crunched through thin ice, the sulphuric wiff of Yorkshire coal smoke in my nostrils, these are the magic frosty mornings I remember so happily. Thank you for the photos, Jenny!
ReplyDeleteGreat magical looking morning cold cold cold photos!
ReplyDeleteI really love that first pic!
ReplyDeleteI believe the term we use here is hoarfrost.
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