Some rare mornings are so strong in immediacy there's no mulling matters on my ramble with Storm, the family's mixed Lab.
This morning was one.
Apparently, there was major radiational cooling at some point during the night.
It must been cold enough, or a dramatic enough drop in temperature, in a small area near town that an arctic fog formed, hanging hoarfrost heavily enough on trees, bushes and about everything else to create a weird sort of light snow.
There was hoarfrost so heavy that the dawn came stunningly beautiful, light fractured into something otherworldly.
It was seriously odd, around 10-12 degrees, but virtually calm, so maybe that explains the hoarfrost hanging 10 beautiful.
But it was a bearable cold after all the wind and cold we have had in December so far.
I was so taken by the beauty of the dawn that I stopped the meathead regularly to take a slew of photos with my cell phone.
Doing that soon caught up to me, and my fingers tingled and stiffened in the cold as I took my gloves off to snap photos.
It was worth it.
The morning was that memorable.
A pair of hardy doves scattered hoarfrost like a passing flurry when they flew off.
An hour later driving to church, some trees outside of town were so heavy with hoarfrost that my daughter Sara blurted, ``It's a Crystal Wonderland.''
Another mile and we were out of the wonder of hoarfrost.
Late this afternoon, I asked my technologically-advanced nephew to download the photos for me.
The meathead and I will back to the routine soon enough, the beauty of the morning reduced to memory.
Life goes that way.