.... .... ... Ok, well no one's answering, so I'll assume that either you think I'm nuts now, or you haven't seen it, or both! If you have, sit back and enjoy the telling and remember your own magical moment with nature, ok?

It happens that I was up into the wee hours of the morning. That's been the case for several days now. I just can't get to sleep. It seems like the problems of the world are preventing me from getting my thoughts to stop whirling through my head long enough that I can get to sleep. This week has been rather rough for me. LadyBug's stroke has been weighing on my mind. She's doing fine... don't get me wrong. I'm just dealing with my own issues over the loss of my dog Belvedere. At any rate, I was up. I had a look out the window just before heading for bed, and I saw that it was foggy. I realized then that I might get to see a frozen fog, so I vowed to stay up later still. I just knew I wouldn't make it until dawn but I went outside anyway, and sat down to wait under the pole light...

The night air was cold, but there was no breeze. The moisture in the air clung to my clothing and face, and when combined with the cold set a searing fire in my chest. On top of that, the only noise was the sound of my own breathing.

The stillness of winter can either amaze you, or drive you mad. We humans deal with noises seemingly every second of our waking lives. Just sitting there in your chair I'm sure that if you stop reading and listen you'll hear a lot of things that you didn't consciously realize were there. The soft hum of the computer fans, the creak of the house, the hum of the refrigerator, the whirring of the blower for the furnace, the low electrical buzz of the lighting, and the quiet steadiness of your own breathing. We take these noises for granted, and we categorize them as background noise. Sitting outside in the dark with only a pole light and the cold for company those "background" noises are something you miss.

It only took a few minutes before wonderment at the lack of sound wore off, and I became desperate for some noise. My ears strained to hear something... ..... ... Anything! .......... But no, there was nothing. Not a creak from the tree, nor a twittering of birds. There wasn't even a rustling in the brush. Just ...... Nothing.

Well, I have ADHD, so you know about how well I can handle just plain nothing! I started humming, but I quickly dropped that idea, because I ended up endlessly humming the chorus of a pop tune, and since I couldn't hum the rest it became ridiculously lodged in my head! Since humming was out, I started to mess with my hair. Several knots later, I started twirling it. When I realized I was twirling my hair I stopped, reminding myself that there would be breakage if I didn't. I went from that to meandering thoughts about the events of this week. While doing that I noticed that I was so cold that I had started to jiggle my legs to keep warm. After that I moved up to actually pacing and looking at my watch.

The umpteenth time of looking at my watch made me decide that five minutes more would be all I could handle, and I had just turned to head for the stump to sit down again when it happened! One second the water particles from the fog were hanging in the air, and in the next they were frozen. Falling like small dits of snow all around me. It's the most wonderful thing to behold! A little mini snowfall all for me!

Moments later I rushed to the pole light to have a look at it; anticipating the wonderment of what I knew I might see. I saw it on the stump first. I leaned over to have a closer look and ruined it for myself. I barely got to register the wonder of the moment when I breathed out; pouring my warm breath over the object of my long wait, and melted it!

Never one to be discouraged, I opened my mouth and took in several breaths of cold air. I wasn't going to miss it this time! I didn't care that I'd have to use my inhaler when I got in so that I wouldn't die of an asthma attack, this was too beautiful to miss!

I walked over to the pole light, and moved slowly closer while holding my breath. I was not disappointed. There before my eyes were the intricate spikes of frozen fog fuzz that I'd waited to see. They covered the wooden pole like five o'clock shadow on a dark haired man's face! I nearly giggled with glee! I moved away, took another deep breath, and then strained to look closer at the fuzz. Delicate fronds accentuated each spike, making each one a unique and fragile flowering of frosty delight, while seemingly strengthening them enough to hold the individual spikes together and cement each one to the wood of the pole.