Hoar frost

One morning a couple of weeks ago I went out looking for feather frost (see previous posts), and then went on a gentle walk to take in the sunrise, which in this deep valley surrounded by hills doesn't occur til nearly nine o'clock in early January.  There had been a hard frost, and gates, fences and vegetation were covered in exquisite hoar, like tiny glinting blades.  As a natural spectacle, a fleeting enhancement of a landscape, it's hard to beat.

On a fence rail

On bramble leaves

On gorse

On lichen and a signpost