Saturday, December 20, 2008

Frost

I gasped aloud today. I don’t think I have ever done that before; just gasped because I was so moved by something. “Moved” isn’t the right word, but one solitary word never covers everything one needs to say...
I woke up early and was trucking over to my grandma’s house by nine in the morning to give my Bruciepoop his walk. I wanted to get back while the day was still young so I could get to work on my parents’ Christmas present. (I wanted to make them a little something on top of the other stuff.) Anyway, I was strolling along, all bundled up, when I noticed some frost on the grass...
Frost is a beautiful thing. It’s amazing what Mother Nature can produce, incredible what power some things have over me. Of course I had to crouch down and get a closer look at the ice-encrusted grass. Each shoot was covered in a icy layer of frosty sheen. I plucked one off and was bedazzled as I looked at how each particle of ice clung so steadfastly to its piece of grass. For the few freezing hours of early winter morning, a couple blessed areas of grass are enrobed in a layer of sparkling diamonds. A fallen leaf has gotten in on this deal, too. It is nestled into the patch of jewels, bearing its own frosty sheen. I let the shoot of grass I am holding flutter to the ground, and take up the leaf instead. Suddenly itching to bathe myself in these gems, I scrape off the ice particles between forefinger and middle and admire the tiny mound of glittery frost that lies there. Then I look back at the leaf, still being held in my other hand. I have robbed it. Look at me, with my fingerful of ice, and look at the leaf it belongs to. It has been diminished to an ugly, lowly form. This leaf is now nothing but a soggy, drippy, wet leaf. Wet leaves are meant to be scraped up and tossed into a big black garbage bag. Wet leaves do not belong in this winter wonderland. I whisper my apologies to it and fling it away. Then I look up, and this is when I gasp. And just like with a dramatic, theatrical gasp, my hand takes on a life of its own, and comes up to cover my mouth. I couldn’t believe I had just done that. I couldn’t believe I had just gasped.
The grass stretches out for several meters, and rolls slightly to give it a hilly look. And covering this is a delicately arranged sheet of glistening thousand-karat diamonds. The glistening, glittering, stunning array is what induced the Gasp, I suppose. Teeny ice pixies seemed to be hiding within the display, winking at me and inviting me to float on into this gorgeous place. Why, I do believe I will, thanks. I guess there are fairies here, too, because there is glitter sprinkled everywhere. It smelled like clouds and spearmint and tiaras. It wasn’t as beautiful as snow, but it’s as close as I’m ever going to get.
Later I went back into the neighborhood and revisited where the sidewalk ends. Then I noticed a chain-link fence with a door that had been left open. It seemed to open up right into the expressway, but I stepped through anyway to see if there was anything interesting. To the right was another little gateway that seemed to twist back into the neighborhood. Ooh-hoo, what was this? I wandered over... only to find out that I had been tricked. It was just that little trail that runs alongside Almaden Expressway. Oh well, might as well walk it anyway. I’d never actually been on this trail, but it wasn’t exactly pleasant. Cars were roaring down the road at a zillion-and-one miles per hour, with only some tall shrubs between me and them. They spring up taller and thicken their branches for me, but it doesn’t really help. I thank them anyway as I pop out at the intersection on the other end.
And that’s about it.

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