Some mornings are more challenging than I’d think. A tiny flicker of light is beckoning through the blinds at an ungodly hour, when even the Sun is still pondering whether to come out or not.
And if I do choose to follow it, sometimes I need a reminder of why I leave that toasty, delicious warmth and my oh-so precious sleep and go out chasing morganas: because each morning is unique. And magic. A different kind of magic for each and every dawn. Cue Freddie Mercury, please. (In fact, please do listen to it while scrolling through my images – click here ). Any morning that starts with his songs is a great one, believe me.
This morning it was frozen magic. With real frozen fingers I am afraid. In my rush to chase the light, I couldn’t find my gloves. But what a sight it was. The colours seemed to pop up even more, with the frost.