Frost (First)

Tiny symmetrical ice mazes have descended by the millions of millions onto the city of Missoula this morning.  They have undoubtedly worked their way in through my car's air intake, flowed through the vents, found that one break in the seal only they know about and covered the inside of my windshield with a thin layer of annoying frost.  Nothing is safe.  Every discernible blade of grass I can see out my window moans and pleads to have the insulating blanket of snow cover up its frigid pain until spring.
"Let's get on with it," they all are saying.  "If its gonna be frost it might as well be two feet of snow."
The mountains of Lolo south of Missoula aren't even visible.  A frosty mist is busy eating away at them like a plague of locusts.  This has created a diminishing effect in my neighborhood.  Two blocks are as far as I can see.

Its as if the world got smaller and tougher to live in.

Its as if the frost wants us to slow down.