Jack Frost was busy last night. He wandered through our neighbourhood painting all the trees and bushes. He silvered leaves and branches, berries and grass, painting them with the lightest of touches – an edging here, a varnish there. He transformed the entire world into spun sugar.
When he was finished, he threw the remaining paint into the air where it froze into a gazillion crystal shards that glittered and danced in the bright January sunlight. Some shards went into orbit around the sun, and some of those orbiting crystals magically coalesced into four brilliant planets almost as bright as the sun itself.
And then he left.
Alas, he doesn’t seem to do windows these days, perhaps he’s getting too old. He used to cover them with lacy fern leaves, undecipherable runes, intriguing and mysterious treasure maps, and a host of other enigmatic designs. Such as shame he doesn’t do that anymore.
Fortunately, he still paints everything else. Thanks, Mr. Frost, for creating a magical winter wonderland.
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