From my Bedroom : 7.00am

Light frost on the balcony.
Heavy frost on the grass at the end of the pond. Golden sunshine.

A wide strip of mist across the valley, like a piece of torn tracing paper obscuring part of the view, but not hiding it completely.

A straight line across the top of the mist, then bright trees again with just a touch of green of the minute, virtually indiscernible new foliage. The hard outlines of the branches are beginning to disappear as we move into spring.

Now the mist is lifting and fading so quickly. A fleeting moment in time when conditions are just right.

7.50 am. The mist is back. A fine sweeping ribbon curving behind and through the trees where the stream flows in the valley.
The hills on the horizon are pink in the morning sun.