Gerry
02-19-2008, 10:22 AM
The view this morning reminded me of being playing at camping under the bedclothes as a five year old. The blanket of freezing fog that covered me made sure I could see no more than a few feet from where I was standing. The ground had regained the virginal white crystal layer that was here yesterday morning but it was even denser today, harder, deeper.
Every step made me sound like a bull in a china shop as I smashed and shattered each clump of brittle grass that I crushed underfoot. Even that carelessly discarded paper bag no longer containing the precious fish and chips devoured by the hungry reveller on his way home last night cracked as my weight came down upon it.
I was well wrapped up this morning keeping the amount of exposed skin to the bare minimum. I could remember the pain of yesterdays frosty needles jagging my face and hands. How my dog expects to pick up a scent in this frozen ice chamber amazes me but his nose works overtime as he probes the hedgerow looking for surprises.
The chill seems to have dulled the voices of the many birds I know are hiding from my gaze as we walk. The silence is crushing, I know they are all there watching me slip and slide past their hidey holes but they don't want to give away their location or expend their precious body het by having to feel an eager snout.
As I come to the crest of the hill I feel like I'm on an aircraft as we break through the cloud layer as we sore into the cold blue sunshine and look don at the fluffy duvet of cotton wool and eider down that wraps the valley below. The brightness of the naked sunlight pierces my eyes and I have to squint like a rabbet in the headlights of an on coming car.
But with all that brightness the sun didn't remember to bring us any heat.
By Gerry Temple
copyright February 2008
Every step made me sound like a bull in a china shop as I smashed and shattered each clump of brittle grass that I crushed underfoot. Even that carelessly discarded paper bag no longer containing the precious fish and chips devoured by the hungry reveller on his way home last night cracked as my weight came down upon it.
I was well wrapped up this morning keeping the amount of exposed skin to the bare minimum. I could remember the pain of yesterdays frosty needles jagging my face and hands. How my dog expects to pick up a scent in this frozen ice chamber amazes me but his nose works overtime as he probes the hedgerow looking for surprises.
The chill seems to have dulled the voices of the many birds I know are hiding from my gaze as we walk. The silence is crushing, I know they are all there watching me slip and slide past their hidey holes but they don't want to give away their location or expend their precious body het by having to feel an eager snout.
As I come to the crest of the hill I feel like I'm on an aircraft as we break through the cloud layer as we sore into the cold blue sunshine and look don at the fluffy duvet of cotton wool and eider down that wraps the valley below. The brightness of the naked sunlight pierces my eyes and I have to squint like a rabbet in the headlights of an on coming car.
But with all that brightness the sun didn't remember to bring us any heat.
By Gerry Temple
copyright February 2008