We awoke Thursday morning to a light frost after a very cold night. It takes longer to get going on cold mornings--from the exercise of will to abandon warm covers to the piling on of coat and scarf and glove. Then, finally, the scraping of ice off the windshield.
As I walked around the front of my vehicle I paused just short of the driver side door and held my breath.
The frost had left a perfect present on my windshield. I grabbed my camera instead of the ice scrapper.
Such an extravagant array of beauty. Can you see the tiny florets?
Normally the snowflakes are so dense I carelessly sweep them away, unaware of the beauty, the intricate patterns I am wasting. They ARE unique! Each one bearing a distinct image stamped by temperature, altitude, the hand of their Creator.
On my left, the new day's sun peeked from behind branches and window frost.
On my right, a tiny snowflake played hide and seek amongst the ice fractrals. Do you see it?
"Heaven is under our feet as well as over our heads." Henry David Thoreau
And sometimes, sometimes it can be found on our windshield.