Wintry Workshop

My footsteps in the lane made crunchy noises and my breath formed thick white clouds in front of me.  A glimpse through the hedge of my workshop – all very still and crisp.

By the time I reached the gate, the sun was making everything golden, and sparkly.

And thawing patches of grass.  My fingers melted dot marks on the workshop door and handle.  Chisels have frozen to the workbench.  The landscape looking beautiful.  With a stinging chill on my cheeks, I get the day started, slowly.  Stone cold.