Freezing Fog

Things have been an endless onslaught since moving to Colorado. It's a little un-real really. But I will spare you the crazy details of our move and home purchase, the litany of hardships and tasks, and the boring details that will come off as kvetching. Instead, I will share with you an afternoon's beauty.

Up here at over 6400 feet elevation, we often get freezing fogs. I headed out with my middle boy for a brief walkabout one afternoon after one such fog. We marveled at the crystal encrusted scenery. 

The grass was coated in ice.

The frost slipped off of each blade, a frozen straw.

In the moments when the sun slipped through the clouds, everything shimmered and sparkled.

The wild, unkempt yard glittered.

Everything was covered in a shiny, sugar-like glaze. 

Each drop of fog was frozen like a pearl and melded to the frozen droplets next to it.

The broken-down fences filmed with frozen fog were shining silver in the sunlight.  

Small icicles were strung on their drooping wires like sparkling Christmas lights.

Leaning weeds were luminescent.

Wide-bladed grasses were furry with frost. 

Old, sagging gates in overgrown pastures and adorned with rusty barbed wire wreathes were made lovely. 

Even the little ramshackle workshop was picturesque when framed with silvery branches.