A thin Layer of Frost

One morning, everything is covered in a thin layer of frost. The footprints of the winter swimmers on the platform are dark against the glittering ice. Invisible things become visible, spider webs between branches, thin threads clinging to the railings beside the river. As I walk, tiny white crystals accumulate on my face, scarf, and coat.

Footprints on a frost-covered wooden dock beside a river, with a metal ladder leading into the water.
A hand holding a single oak leaf covered in frost, against a dark blurred background.

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The Perfect Winter Salad

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Memories from Japan