The first frost of the year

No temptation to hurkle-durkle this morning, a clear sky this dawn promised a good sunrise. Maybe Jack Frost had visited but there was no evidence of his telltale fern-like patterns on the windows. Or maybe nowadays he just avoids double glazed windows. But a thin layer of ice crystals did cover the grass and fallen leaves of the Cliff Rigg oaks. On Roseberry, a graceful aubade as the first rays of the sun broke over Easby Moor. A lot of sloe gin makers wait until after the first frost of the year to pick their sloes, but perhaps too late now for the Christmas tipple.
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