Frost is nature’s graffiti. Jack Frost came in the night and painted on the window panes with his index finger. I imagine him as Peter Pan’s doppelganger cousin. An ageless mischievous boy who makes his art and flicks away into the night, thrives on the bitter cold and eats snow. He might also be responsible for the precarious hang of icicles from roofs and the sheet of ice adorning my car most mornings.
Every winter I’m reminded of Fantasia‘s beautiful animation of Tchaikovsky’s “Dance of the Flowers” from The Nutcracker. Fairies embody the seasons – changing leaves and flowers from the green vibrancy of summer into fall seed pods, flying leaves and harvest colors, and straight into the frost of winter: fairies and pixies skating on frozen ponds, making Winter an art and a celebration of wonder. It takes the breath away. Discoveries like these almost make me believe in fairies – or any form of naughty sprite – again.