First Frost

An Essay By Libby // 1/11/2019

The grass glistens. Beads of dew bend the slender, white stems, bowing, as it seems, to greet the morning. Thrills of anticipation ring in my chest. I close my eyes, imagining the first step to mar the pure whiteness; the delicious, crisp odor of the air stinging my lungs; the satisfying crunch of ice as it crumbles beneath my feet. Shivers of delight course through my veins.

I force my lids to lift.

Cartops and windows are glazed over with the filmy crust. Dark mushrooms dotting the field are fringed with white trimming—beauty in itself! The horizon is edged with a pale-yellow hue that melts into the clear sapphire of the sky.

The sun is just peeking through the trees, casting its golden light upon patches of the silver world. Its golden fingertips brush the pale rooftops dipped in ice. The ruby of the maple lace is bathed in a warm glow as, beneath it, a line of light slowly melts through the icy grass.

The silver, ghost-like light cast into our little house is slowly giving way to the golden warmth of sunlight.

I sigh.

My perfect world is melting fast, bit by bit.

I watch as the steam begins to rise above the last frosted fence top. Drops of water catch the sun’s rays, glittering like jewels.

Golden beams, like ropes, pull the sun from its hiding place behind the trees. Its warmth burst free, lighting the world once again.

Day has begun. The fresh morning is tainted.

My world is not perfect anymore.

But tomorrow will come again—and with it, a new dawn.


Oh my goodness how can I even describe how I'm feeling rn

Your style makes writing about quiet, cold mornings look easy! I'm so happy right now because this vignette perfectly describes how I want to wake up on winter mornings (being in SoCal I wake up to 60 degree weather if I'm lucky). Bravo! I love it so much!

Madalyn Clare | Fri, 01/11/2019

"To live is to love with the passion of a thousand stars. To love is to live despite the pain of a thousand scars. Anything in between is a passing shadow." ~Michael Joseph Murano

This is so beautiful, Libby!

This is so beautiful, Libby! I love it! I agree; this does describe how I want to wake up...not how the world actually looks when I wake up. Your descriptions were wonderful. I especially liked the line, "Golden beams, like ropes, pull the sun from its hiding place behind the trees." I've never heard sun beams described as ropes; it is unique and lovely. Well done!

Grace J. | Fri, 01/11/2019

“You are doing something great with your life—when you are doing all the small things with His great love.” - Ann Voskamp

*heaves a huge sigh*

Gosh, Libby, you're so good at capturing feelings and augh this is just beautiful <33

Heather Jones | Fri, 01/11/2019

“planting seeds inevitably changes my feelings about rain.” —luci shaw.
psalm 84:10 esv.

Oh Libby, you wrote this so

Oh Libby, you wrote this so well! These two lines especially caught my attention:

"Its golden fingertips brush the pale rooftops dipped in ice."


"Drops of water catch the sun’s rays, glittering like jewels."

Fabulous job Libby! You write so beautifully!

Joy J. | Sat, 01/12/2019

C.H. Spurgeon - "God’s mercy is so great that you may sooner drain the sea of its water, or deprive the sun of its light, or make space too narrow, than diminish the great mercy of God. "

Thank you all so much! You

Thank you all so much! You all make me too happy :)
I love frost and when I woke up and saw it for the first time in November, I was just so enchanted and grabbed my notebook and began to write. I guess that helped with catching the mood - thank you all so very much. :D

Libby | Tue, 01/15/2019

“The gospel alone is the power of God unto salvation.
Therefore, suffer, yes. Be misunderstood, yes. Be shamed, yes. But do not be ashamed. For the joy set before you, take up your cross, follow Jesus, be shamed and despise the shame!" -- John Piper


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