Today’s walk was like yesterday’s–the same frost, thicker if anything, covering the trees; the same ice fog; the same snow squeak-crunching underfoot–but it felt entirely different. What felt monochromatic then was a glorious study in tones of black and white and blue and grey this morning. Why the difference? The landscape was the same; the difference must’ve been in the observer.
I made slow progress, partly because I kept stopping to take photographs, partly because of the ice and snow on the path, partly because a muscle in my back is pinched and complaining. It got colder as I got closer to the university, like yesterday, and the icy fog drifted like smoke in the air.
We haven’t had a week of frost like this since I moved here 25 years ago. We’re so lucky that winter has given us this gift.
Amazing photos!