Is it cold where you are or are you gliding into the dog days of summer? Here, now, it's pretty chilly, with winter's grasp holding firm over the Puget Sound and surrounding regions. Clouds in various shades of grey generally dominate the skyscape, though there are the occasional bursts of blue and hints of the sun's warmth breaking through to remind you it still dances out there, just beyond the blanket of moisture hovering above. While it's generally just shy of cold enough to snow, we still get ample rain that, in the coldest hours of the darkest portions of the evening, can freeze over to a delicate frost decorating the world when we wake. Depending on the morning after, the frost can last for a surprisingly variable window of time before dissolving into steam in the sun's rays. Like I said above, though- it's rarely cold enough to snow, with the chance of it snowing on Christmas day somewhere around 7% or lower. That's generally a good bit more likely than in Vegas, where they average only 2 inches of rain per year (whereas the Seattle area gets an average of about 37.5 inches of rain per year). I'm no statistician, but even I can see the odds of a white Christmas in Vegas are exceedingly slim- though it has happened, once, in 2008, so it's not an utterly impossible thing, just exceptionally improbable. Not so improbable as to get your ship to the restaurant at the end of the universe, but certainly improbable enough to note.
Antho and I, of course, have been luxuriating in the cold and ambient moisture in this variable and transforming an environment. Waking to a bright, cloudless morning with our world metamorphized by a glittering profusion of ice droplets is fascinating, and new. While we slept, a giant came through and dropped fistfuls of glitter, or perhaps a fleet of faeries flew in with an army of bedazzlers and spackled everything they could in shimmer. But again, like most of the magical things in life, this beauty is fleeting and as the rays of sunlight dance across the droplets they begin to lose form and evaporate, disappearing into the ether. All this hydration means that the plant life, at least that hardy enough to weather the declining temperatures, is still thriving. We were surprised to find these brilliant pink blossoms bursting into abundant bloom after the rains started sweeping the area with more vigorous regularity. We hope you enjoy this glimpse into the fleeting beauty of the beads of ice on this brisk winter's morning!
