Last night, I went over to Aubrey’s and we worked on homework together. Eventually, she completed hers and went to bed, and I stayed at her kitchen table working on a project while her cat Monkey intermittently watched me, slept, or tried to get me to play with him. Around 4:30 a.m., I finished my project and went to the spare bedroom and tossed and turned a bit. I slept for about an hour, then very abruptly woke up around 6:30 a.m. I decided that the time had come for me to go back to my own apartment, so I ventured down to my car. I sat freezing waiting for the car to warm up and for my newly repaired defroster to kick in. The sun was starting to come up, so I pulled my car forward about a foot so the frost on my windshield would melt a bit. And then I saw it.
On my window, there were thousands of ice specks, frozen in a dance that would soon be lost forever, and could never be replicated in the exact same way again. They looked to me to be like birds, with small, delicate wings, flying into the rising sun. I sat, awed, for a few minutes, and realized that this was the sort of thing that I needed to share. Not having my camera on me, I sped back home and snatched my camera up. By this point the sun was rising more, and the beautiful, pure, cold light of the early morning was fading away into the harsh light of day which would melt my ice birds. Luckily for me, I still managed to snap a few photos of them.
I found today the simple joy of my craft again- finding beauty in things that normally are passed over by more “important” things, or passed off as a nuisance, such as scraping ice off of a windshield.