Had a day off work today and decided to go into town early, on a flying visit, for a spot of seasonal shopping. Caught the bus rather than drove – much cheaper at present considering petrol prices and route diversions due to roadworks.
On the way there – and back – saw the most exquisite frosty landscape features. Alas, stopping to photograph was out of my control; I don’t think the bus driver and fellow passengers would have thanked me for stopping the bus for a gratifying photo op.
I did briefly think about getting off the bus some way from home, as I saw the most wonderful frost patterns on an exposed barbed wire fence between crop fields. If I’d have had more to eat for breakfast I might have alighted there and then and walked the remainder of the way home, but I felt empty and knew my blood sugar levels weren’t going to get me home easily on foot.
I stayed the journey, arrived home, dropped off my bag, and came out again to walk a little way until I found a closer-to-home barbed wire fence. There I stopped in suspense to photograph frost: suspended …….
These cold, semi-bright, frosty, foggy, icy, sharp, weather conditions are what I remember from Winters past; they are forever suspended in the mental ether of my memory banks – not the more recent mild grey damp ones. I like them very much.