This past weekend in Palouse was frosty...the kind of frost that blankets everything in its magical, icy, crystal grip.
Behind the market, the river donned its winter cloak.
Main Street slipped into a frost-bitten silence.
And, prickly ice thorns coated the trees and bushes.
It was a cold, tranquil, arctic-ish delight.
P.S. I'm not sure what it says about my photography skills--or lack thereof--when my favorite shot (the one above - I like the awkward perspective) is the one I took accidentally when I first stepped outside and my camera slipped out of my hand. (Trying not to get a complex about that.)
Attempting to hone my skills (and hang onto my camera).
-The Grocer's Wife