First Frost


Photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash

A timid morning ray reached through the window, warmed my face, tugged my eyelids, and coaxed me to wake with the newborn day. I yawned, stretched and felt the chill air, a chill that was absent when I fell to sleep.

It was a time when nights pushed back the edges of day and cool fingers plucked warmth from the sun. The sun would submit, darkness would rule the world allowing the handmaidens of snow and ice to dance while summer slumbered.

For now, there were preparations needed ahead of darkness’ descent. I rose, dressed and flung open the door. Night’s chill reached into my lungs, stealing my breath while the sun dazzled my senses with crystalline grass and lace-edged leaves. My hand touched the shawl hanging on its peg where I had abandoned it months before. Delicate wool magically constructed stored welcome warmth, my shield, my protector. Armed, I stepped into a world transformed.

The dazzling display would fade, it was the harbinger, a gentle warning to make haste. My sisters emerged, we marveled a moment, then without a word, we spread iridescent wings, and rising like the mist, we flew.


Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

15 thoughts on “First Frost

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.