8 a.m. The blinds are shut and as I open them a vale of mist reveals itself.
Icecrystals hang on the trees and the grass exchanged green for white.
Every little leave has a silver crown while hanging slightly down.
Winter passed by during the night and left a signature white and bright.
The fog is the guardian of the coldness in the air
preventing the sun to fix or repare.
But as soon a single ray of light broke through and touched the earth
it spread like waves in the water do.
All the colors of the world came back and banished white.
It only lasted untill 8 p.m tonight.