I followed my own advice and last night had a hot shower, a long read and drifted off serenely into a sleep which was unbroken. That was until just before the alarms were about to chirrup. It wasn’t these that woke me to the satisfying darkness this am, but the sound of neighbours busily scraping away ice from their windscreens. Yes, the first frost of the Autumn sparkled everywhere in the dawning light and filled me with another form of content.
The thought of sunshine cold makes me very happy. These are my favourite days to witness and even though the early morning look is always the finest, I still afforded myself another ten minutes snuggle in my nest. Usually, on such days, the thought of defrosting my car would propel me out of bed – it takes some time even with the thinnest layer (Oh, did I tell you I have my car back! The beautiful courtesy car is no more but my old friend, now feeling much like a tin can, is back in residence and ready to fight the winter weather once more). But not this morning, I lounged, listening to the crunch and slice of the be-gloved people outside.
When I eventually clambered from the warm, I smiled at the thought of needing scarf and gloves for the first time in months. I wrapped up warm in knits and dug out the old faithful scarf I love so well, but could not locate my gloves! But it didn’t matter, although a little inconvenient when needing to drive, frozen fingers and a pink nose are just two more hallmarks of these favourite days. Despite watching weather forecasts, these shimmering days take me completely by surprise. There is some sense of a world half way between waking and sleep, a world just nestling in its bed longing for five more minutes. It wants to freeze and go to sleep but the sun streams strong, determined not to give up, not just yet. It is the last fighting barrier before the truly dismal weather of winter sets in.
I have always loved these days. It may be sentimental, it may be cliché, but they genuinely put me in mind of being a child and all my adored Autumnal experiences; walking in the Pennine foothills to that certain Horse-Chestnut by the little stream, collecting conkers to out do fellow pupils on the playground; sycamore leaves, red and golden falling across the sky and painting the ground with a rich, warm glow; The crunch of heavy frost under a welly-clad foot before it breaks through the ice covered puddle; the squeal and giggle of children as they discover sliding again after a long summer absence; the thinning of leaves on tress allowing a new view of clear blue skies and shimmering sun; hot buttery toast and hot Vimto in front of a roaring fire.
On days like today everything looks so beautiful, so fresh. A single breath of frosty air makes me feel more alive than a thousand summer days.