Frozen

Bright sun and icy frost meet me as I once again open the door to crunch my way over to my mother's house. I had remembered my phone this time, and I pause to take a photo of intricate ice crystals adorning the bush next to my door. My mother would like to see that.

I had not wanted her to risk the short walk over to visit me because she was only just recovering from a back injury, and slipping on the ice was all too easy. Anyway sipping some real coffee and sitting with her in the warm conservatory was going to be a treat. She would be painting a new picture for an exhibit at the Up-Front gallery and we could be quiet together as I labored through some scientific publications.

I pick up my backpack and contemplate how it would be fun to research the growth of ice crystals and frost as it accumulated, maybe by setting up some complex equipment in the laboratory. So many forms of ice exist, and the intricate patterns would make for aesthetically-pleasing figures in a relevant journal paper. Maybe those images would also inspire my mother's creative endeavours as she paints her wintry water landscapes.