Well I went for my usual walk this AM - frost on the ground, etc., and all the bare trees. Except for one "weeping birch" (I think that's the usual term) which had all its golden leaves still in place. Very impressive looking in an odd-sort-of way. The weeping part certainly made its point, with all the branches bent over like someone's head bent over, with their face hidden. And the leaves hanging like blonde hair, hiding the sadness. Hmmmm. Nature mimics life?
Well, then I biked to the market. That's about 3 miles; not a big deal usually. But there was FOG. And I mean fog. Fog? Visibility was about 50-75 yards. And me (soooo intelligent) all dressed in black. Like the man said in The Dam Busters - "This is bloody dangerous." Well, it certainly made me aware of the fragility of life, as they say.
And here I am cycling away - well, not really very fast - and thinking away (I do that part faster). Anyhoo, when I got to the market, I realized I was frosted. On my coat and the front part of my gloves where they caught most of the wind from biking. A nice neat silver frosting. Me! Frosty!
Well, it's the little things, anyway.
The average person produces nothing but their own existence.
(That's what frosted cycling does to your mind!)
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