Today for the first time the frost stayed on the ground all day. Frost freezes the grass, of course, so when you walk over it it feels crunchy beneath your feet. I love that sensation, and feeling it reminded me (as if I need reminding) of how much I love snow. When I lived in England all those years ago, the only snowfall we got was a tiny little dusting; I was so disappointed! Now I'm more savvy about snow in the Southeast of England, so I don't suppose we'll get any at all, and that's fine. But I still like it, and I can never understand people who don't.
When I was little, one year there was a blizzard in Philadelphia. Indeed, for a while this blizzard was famous as the most fierce Philadelphia had had (this record has long since been eclipsed). I remember that the day after the snowfall there was bright sunshine - as there often is the day after a blizzard. In our backyard, the sun melted the top of the snow into one of those thin smooth sheets of ice that makes the snow even and makes it look solid. And that's exactly how it looked to me. I remember going down our long back steps until I reached the top of the snow and stepping on it, expecting it to hold my weight, and sinking down into it up to my waist. Of course, I was short then, so who knows how high the snow actually was, but at the time that - both the height and the sinking - were astounding to me. Perhaps that's why I still love snow.
But frost is good, too. Crunchy. Yay, frost!