This morning, in a predawn hoarfrost world, with a
temperature of -1°, I scampered out to sit my hot tub outside.
-1° before sunrise is its own reality. No sounds.
The air itself sparkling. Steam
curling around my face and turning to frost in my tangles of bed-hair.
Where warm and cold meet, the moisture instantly clamps
still and turns perfectly white. The
opposite of hot lava meeting the ocean.
At this temperature, to be still is everything.
--Mitchell
Hegman
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