Crystal Day

Today was the perfect day for my ‘word’.

It was one of those rare gifts, when you awake to the appearance that the world has been touched with a magic wand; transformed into the most enchantingly and breathtakingly beautiful heaven.

It was what I call a ‘Crystal Day’. Last year we were not gifted with a single one.  I know, I remember.  I longed for one. I watched and was ready – it never came. 

It came today, and nothing would keep me from it.  One must not dally, it is fleeting. The sun and the sky are as important in the recipe of a Crystal Day as the hoar frost. 

There can be nothing less than an Alice blue sky to accentuate the white frost and cast a blue shadow on the snow. Sun is essential. It electrifies the fragile ice flakes – the glint of diamonds dancing: “Look! Here’s your spot of magic … no here.

 No … HERE!”

Such was today.

I didn't have to leave my own back yard to savour it.  I wandered around, camera in hand – of course. A soft blanket of snow had been gently dropped over the farm.   In one way I hated to disturb it with my footsteps, and in another way, it delighted me.

The simplest weeds were transformed into treasures.

Even plain old grass, generally withered and forlorn and nothing to look at, was downright artistic.

The simplest things this day, were worthy of a second look.

The rusty old wire was coated with crystals, so uniform and perfect, that one would not consider disturbing it.

The fences cast blue shadows on the powdery snow - art up and down and all around.

It seemed particularly quiet today.  It made me stop to listen.

It was like the world was frozen in time. Hushed.

Not a sound. A single sound.

That's rare out here.

If nothing else, I generally hear birds.

Or dogs. Or traffic way off in the background.

This morning - nothing.

I listened hard.

 I listened.

To the peace; to the beauty; to the magic.

To the silence.

After I decorated the farm with my footprints, and captured a good many things, I thought I'd go for a bit of a drive and see what was happening in the countryside.  Surely there were a multitude of shots just waiting to be discovered.

I got no further than the corner.  As if by the soft breath of an angel, the crystals began to fall.  If you weren't watching closely, you would not have noticed. It was soft and subtle; gentle and quiet.

Witnessing the dissipation of magic was striking, in how quickly in happened.

I don't believe I looked away, but somehow, instantly, it was all over.

It was like someone flipped the channel.

The sky changed from blue to white; the breath turned to a gust

and it was gone like a dream.

I'm glad that I didn't miss it because I thought it might wait for awhile.

I got to be right in the middle of it. To see it.

And to listen.