Soft Silver

After a rainless autumn, we have a warm winter full of a soft silver drizzle that silently and gently spreads a new kind of Christmas magic over the gardens – roses and other flowers still blooming, untouched by frost, enhanced by the muted light of December that sets them sparkling in an almost unreal way. I like it. Nature decorates with unpreposterous grandeur, sparks of hope and thanks hanging from every tiny stem.
Have a blessed and magic Christmas, everybody!

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Fleeting frame

A delicate fleeeting lace clings to the edges of the reawakening stream. Snowwhite ice, paperthin, curves along the banks like a elegant signature. Winter is waving the white flag. So beautiful is this filigree that I want to hold my breath to make it stay, but that does not stop time, nor the sun that turns this beauty into a different one: sparkling drops that become one with the triumphant gurgling flow of spring. The picture however stays in mind. I think something as fragile frames my thoughts, a different frame every day, and sometimes, when I get lucky, a trace of it finds its way into my writing.