The first frost of the season with Winter only days away now. The cooler mornings change the light to a shifting sea of lavender and blues as our little valley is enveloped in mist. The cold bites at my exposed skin as I tromp through the icy grass in my dressing gown and boots, still marvelling as I did when I was a littlie watching my breath charge out ahead of me. As the sun peeks over the ridge, I’ll wait by a crackling hearth for the ice shadows. All about them melts while the proud trees, leaning into the first warmth of the new day, prevent their melting. My familiars stay tucked close to the fire, refusing all adventures and my fingers turn to writing instead.