The sky has been clear for several days, which means the land soaks up the sun’s heat but has no insulating clouds to hold it. The other morning I walked the dogs to the end of the driveway through a landscape under the thrall of frost. The grassy fields beyond our woods were painted bluish-green while dried goldenrods and asters had turned amber. These scenes often make me think of my mom’s heirloom ornaments made of frosted glass.





I took an hour to walk around the pond before work. Some of the smaller pools of water had a fragile top layer of ice, but the mass of the pond keeps the temperature more stable and less susceptible to the whims of the air. A muskrat plopped into the water as I passed by. It paddled out a little ways, making a hasty wake in the calm surface. Farther down the shore it climbed up beside another muskrat, pausing to shake water from its fur. They huddled next to each other, taking turns slicking water-resistant oil through their coat. The pond was cold to my touch and not appealing to this naked primate. It will only steadily lose heat even though the muskrats will need to forage through it all winter.



A robin sat at the top of a tree, feathers puffed out. An alder with leaves still green was graced with ice, but next year’s leaves are snug in their protective buds. The clear sky let the sun penetrate the canopy of branches. Thick vegetation which had retained some warmth in earlier hours now held in the cold air, making shadows of frost. Elsewhere leaves glistened with moisture. Evergreen leaves, such as spruce needles and the leaves of a widespread fern with the prosaic name polypody, control the damage of ice and retain their vibrant green through the melt. Others turn waxy due to ice crystals which had broken through cell walls and then melted away. Everyday it seems more of the grass at the end of our driveway dies.