First Frost

 

I drew back the curtain this morning to see roofs covered in white. A pale clear sky. Our first frost. Knowing the temperature would soon rise, I went out with my camera to see what I could see. Borage buds like tiny porcupines. Crisp dahlias that turned black later in the day. 

Ice lace following the curves of hydrangea petals. My breath, white as a cloud that drifted into nothingness. Roses drooping.

Grass crunching underfoot, each green blade veiled in pale ice. 

Later, after the frost melted, it was a gloriously sunny day. The acer maple has put down a colorful carpet. Energized by the sun I ran errands, bought groceries, and noticed the flurry of Christmas lights and decorations appearing in stores. 

On a couple of Scandinavian blogs I frequent the term 'Novent' has turned up. It's a combination of November and Advent - a time to bring out candles and lights, and for some, Christmas decorations. It's far too early for the latter, in my opinion, but I'm all for making things cozy and warm in this month. Since the time change a couple of weeks ago, evenings start earlier and earlier. Lighting candles and soft lamps pulls me into pools of light to read or stitch. Or to plan for Christmas, one of my favourite times of the year. Baking and sewing, a bit of shopping, and making arrangements for a couple of special events. 

And then tonight, the last supermoon of the year called the Beaver Moon or the Frost Moon. How fitting that we just had our first frost. 

We were driving early in the evening, the full moon shining above us. I thought of Alfred Noyes' poem: 

The wind was a torrent of darkness among the gusty trees,

The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed among cloudy seas,

The road was a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor,

And the highway man came riding - 

        Riding - riding

The highway man came riding, up to the old inn door.

I get the shivers just thinking about the poem. It was a perfect night for it. Was the moon a "ghostly galleon" in your corner of the world?