I judge the morning cold by how many layers I need to keep my fingers warm when I run. This morning was a cold one as I had to pull my fingers and thumbs together inside my liners inside my mittens to keep the frigid east wind at bay. I should have had a clue when my husband woke me in the middle of the night so we could enjoy the thick layer of hoar-frost making the lights on the apple tree outside our window glow. Magical, we were both spellbound.

Upon returning from my morning sojourn, I could feel my face mask had frozen from my warm breath, becoming stiff along the fabric under my eyes. And that apple tree radiated the blue from the bulbs along the top and side.

When it was light enough, we ventured out to feed the horses and bulls; Jack had been busy with the canvas of our farm during the night. A glorious beginning to Boxing Day greeted us, like a crystalline gift we’d left to open for another day.