Frosty fields in the Cotswolds, United Kingdom.
Last week, before the snowfall but after a frost, I passed through the Cotswold countryside between Bibury and Northleach, England.
It was nothing short of magical.
The fields, trees, weeds, and grasses were all coated with a not-so-thin layer of frost, muting nature’s palette nearly to monochrome.
Dead roadside weeds, now uniformly white, were strangely lovely. The frosted Queen Anne’s lace, delicate, intricate, and white, lived up to its name once again.
As much as these images capture, they unfortunately cannot convey the crisp, almost biting air, the crunching of frosty vegetation under foot, and the quiet isolation of vast frosted vistas in all directions.
Being there felt strangely otherworldly, like a sidestep from the real. After all, where in reality does the world look like this?
Yes. In the Cotswolds on a wintery afternoon where the cold, short days have slowed life to a near stop.
With the cold seeping in, I left with no dreams of springtime…only of a nice cup of tea.