Another bright day.
A bright reason to be up and at it again. You steel yourself to deal with the bastards. The beauty of the world is not enough, you also need its strength.
These last evenings the sunset has been littered along the western horizon as I drove home from work. The day lengthens a few minutes at a time. One's good cheer returns, a cupful at a time.
Frost on the windshield of the pick-up. Hoarfrost on trees and brush. The sunlight glitters among the branches. The color of everything is slightly muted. O happy day.
The hoarfrost - it's like the trees tops are lost in fog. Blue sky beyond. Smoke goes straight up from the chimneys, it forms a blanket above the village.
In the country, the lay of hoarfrost on everything is stunning. Only the gods could paint such a world. The temperature is near zero, but the beauty meter is max'd.
North of Five Corners the hoarfrost is nearly gone. I'm driving a darker landscape all of a sudden. The world casts down its eyes. Then in Ripon - again the hoarfrost, the glitter, the shine of the day.
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