11/06/2025
I stepped onto my deck this morning with coffee still steaming in my hand, and stopped dead in my tracks.
The frost had done something I'd never seen before. It didn't just coat the wood—it created art. Actual, intricate art. Like someone had spent hours etching delicate ferns, flowers, and vines into every board. The patterns were so detailed, so deliberate, that I actually looked around to see if my neighbor had somehow done this as a prank.
But no. This was just nature, showing off.
I stood there in my bathrobe, barefoot and freezing, staring at my deck like it was a museum exhibit. The morning light caught the frost at just the right angle, making the dark patterns pop against the weathered white wood. Each plank had its own unique design—botanical illustrations that would've taken an artist days to create, and Mother Nature just… did it. Overnight. For free.
My daughter came out, took one look, and whispered, "Mom, it looks like a fairy garden."
She wasn't wrong. There were what looked like butterflies, trailing ivy, even what I swear was a perfect rose. All made from ice crystals that would be gone by noon.
I grabbed my phone and took about fifty pictures, knowing nobody would believe this without proof. Then I just sat down on my cold deck steps and watched it slowly start to disappear as the sun climbed higher. Within an hour, the botanical gallery on my porch would be nothing but wet wood.
But for those few morning minutes, my boring backyard deck was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen.
Sometimes the best art is the kind that doesn't ask permission or expect applause. It just shows up, takes your breath away, and reminds you that magic is real—even if it only lasts until breakfast.