Nov 15
2 min read
The Girl Who Loved the Cold
An ode to frost
As a child, I don’t know whether I pretended frost was magical, or if I actually believed it, lifting silver-trimmed oak leaves from the pile at our bus stop and casting spells on my companions. Before I learned the science of ice as crystal, nevertheless I could spot its similarity to glittering jewels; I could see how it made sparkling ornaments of the dawn light.
