Unheralded

LILLIAN CROOK: WildDakotaWoman — The Secret Ministry Of Frost

Although this is a time of fallow in the yard, there is beauty everywhere, for those who pause to look. The hoary white bits coat everything and the air is still. It makes me think of this poem, by Samuel Taylor Coleridge. Here are the first and last few lines. “Frost at Midnight” The Frost performs its secret ministry, Unhelped …