tiger weather

Terrrriffically frosty:

frosted grass close up
The picture is an old one as I am seldom out at the right time to catch the frost: either I’m so early it isn’t light enough for photography, or I’m late and I’ve missed the best of it.

Last Wednesday would have been a perfect opportunity for pictures as I had to cross the park at 7:30 and the morning was diamond bright.

Sadly, I was in far too much of a hurry leaving the house to remember to take my camera with me, and in too much of a hurry to get to an appointment to stop and fiddle with photos on my phone. It was a lovely walk, though, and perhaps not having a lens to look through allowed me to appreciate the view better.

As I took a shortcut, stomping across the frozen grass, I was reminded of this fragment, written six years ago:

returning,

she walks through fields of silver.
Winter cracks under her feet
and the earth breathes
gossamer. In her wake,
the path is damp
and green.

 

Author: don't confuse the narrator

Exploring the boundary between writer and narrator through first person poetry, prose and opinion

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