The Secret Ministry of Frost

I love winter mornings when the frost has performed it’s secret ministry, and the sun rises just high enough to throw shadows across the garden… , and see how it paints that patch of purple just past the willows? This is my Utopia… simple really, some special little people, three cats and two goats in a winter wonderland.

I fell in love with Samuel Coleridge when I first read Frost at Midnight… here are the last few lines, just to set the scene, here the poet is referring to the iciccles on the eaves of the thatched roof:

Or if the secret ministry of frost
Shall hang them up in silent icicles,
Quietly shining to the quiet Moon.

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