I awoke long before dawn, but was reluctant to put my feet out of bed until 6:30.
The cats, knowing I was awake, resorted to their best tactics. It is difficult to think of sleep when there is a cat on one's pillow, several stomping resolutely over whatever ridge of one's body is uppermost in the bed.
I gave in to their blandishments, felt about in the dark for slippers and robe and we trouped to the kitchen.
At first light I opened the curtains and discovered three does nibbling icy grass along the edges of the pond.
Every twig and fence wire is coated in hoarfrost this morning.
Sunrise brought a pale flush to the sky.
Sparrows and juncos glean beneath the feeder.
The deer don't oblige for photos. It is a matter of trying to focus as they move along the bank.
These are mule deer.
She moved as I snapped.
Frost covered trees.
A pale winter sun reflects on the foothills.
Pebbles and her fence are frost touched.
"If you're going to stand on the porch and take my picture, I think you might get out here with my grain!"
Frost hairs on the clothes pegs.
The foothills have disappeared in a grey-white haze, only the nearer landscape is deffned.