Delicate Spring

I awoke to mist and fog, so dense you could see it moving, like an alien beast, huffing and puffing and snaking its way through the neighborhood. Inbetween puffs,  I could see the landscape was shrouded in hoar frost, that delicate powdering of ice and frozen alien breath.

A good day to get outside.

Even though I rushed to get going, by the time I hit the road, the sun was up and the blue sky had defeated the interloping mist. But the frost was still breathtaking.