I awake to a blissful winter wonderland. The streets are coated in a blanket of glittering crystals and the busy roads deserted, plunging the neighbourhood into a deep, dreamy cone of delicious silence. I sit, eyes heavy with sleep, and gaze out into the garden as the soft light of dawn seeps through the trees and kisses the shivering ground.
I grab my camera, hook my beautiful little beagle onto a lead and head out into the glowing white air. The cold wind slices passed us. Snow balances atop tiny leaves that sway in the treetops, and every so often a gentle breeze blows a tiny flurry down onto my shoulders.
We pause by a frosted lake in the centre of the park. The winter sun sits amongst the white clouds and casts long, lazy shadows across the ice. A single swan with feathers white as snow, wonders calmly across the frozen surface, wings glowing with pale sunlight. It feels as though we've stepped out into a dreamscape. Like an altered, snow laden reality. It's magic.
My dog, spooked by children racing downhill on toboggans, makes a break for the exit. All at once it's time to return home. I kick snow off the tops of my boots and pull my hat, embroidered with little red and yellow flowers, from my wind swept head. The warmth of the house envelops us, and we sink down into the sofa to watch the white landscape begin to melt.
Until next time.