Hoar Frost!

This morning I woke up to another cold gray gloomy day. As I drove through Harrogate town center I noticed the bare tree branches against a dingy white sky. Ugh. Winter in northern England. I was headed west, just a few miles out of town, in the direction of Skipton. It came upon me gradually -- but my mood began to lift. There was something different in the air. Before I knew it I had entered another world. The sky turned from dingy gray to mother-of-pearl luminescence. Trees were covered in frost. The drystone walls were tipped with frost. Everywhere I looked there was hoar frost. Somehow it looked different than a dusting of snow. There was something magical the way the frost clung to every branch of every tree, every blade of grass in the fields, every link on every chainlink fence. I was dying to find a place to pull over and take some pictures. I drove to a place I knew where I could pull the car over and began snapping away. My arm brushed up against one of the frosted branches and I was surprised at how soft the hoar frost felt despite how jagged and icy it looks up close. I was not wearing the right clothes to go for a walk. My camera battery was low and I had forgotten to bring the replacement battery with me. Consequently I only managed a few shots. Who knows when I will ever encounter such magical conditions again. Wow! Winter in northern England.