When the yellow leaves leave their trees to rest on the ground and winter's bone starts to spread its colors and breath over everything, everything starts to feel different. Cold has another sound to it. Cold sounds different from Autumn.
The sound of cold is the early morning's perfectly dark blue sky with just the full moon balancing itself against the morning star, which shines so bright as if it's trying to outdo the moon. The sound of cars driving on the road when its starting to turn over to winter, has another sound. The tires on the road just sounds different. People talking in the streets sounds like their awaiting, expecting... They sound different than before. Voices sounds different. Their voices echo into the now light blue sky. Cold is a perfectly cloudless, move less, calm, azure, blue sky. The most perfect light blue you can ever imagine. I walked past grass and noticed how they glittered in the morning light. Ice coated green grayish grass greeted me with a welcoming surprise. I wanted to touch it. Cold is ice coated grass glittering underneath the morning moon. Magical. Wondrous. I saw a giant tarantula leave crawling my way - a big leave exactly shaped like a tarantula - legs and all, almost moving life-like. Cold is finding the sky torn between colors. Fire-ish, reddish, horizon, succumbing and overlapping, overflowing with the blue haze. And then a red-pink horizon greeted me in the cold. A promise of a bright, clear day. Glory morning. It's perfect. The cold is magical and perfect. Driving past parks and grass fields, it looks like a fog layer hanging over the grass with trees rooted on the fog layer. It looks like a fairy tale. Difficult to describe in words.
And now my husband tells me everything sounds different in the cold, because the air is thicker and cold air is a better conductor of sound. O well, in my writer's eyes and ears, I didn't think scientifically.
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Photo by Photographer Marta Cernicka - photo.net picture on VisualizeUs
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Have a great (cold) week! ;)
