At this point of winter, we Northerners look for silver linings.
Many are the reasons to pity the poor Southerners, but one presented its silver self this morning.
Freezing fog and the delicate, sparkling rime it leaves behind.
I’m no meteorologist and I would have to look up the specific conditions that give us freezing fog, but Northerners know it is distinct from garden-variety frost.
In its wake, freezing fog leaves the most delicate fuzz of crystals on the entire outdoors. Every tree and twig and dried weed and fence post is enrobed so they all appear a bit softened, muted, as if behind a scrim.
(If you click on the photos, you can count the little spikes of ice!)
The temperature rises a degree or two, the sun comes out, and it’s gone. Winter is cold and a little bleak and hard-edged again.
But we had our silver lining for a moment . . . and that counts for a lot during winter.