The world sparkled. Encased in crystal. As the sun warmed, the air became filled with a sound like crinkling cellophane, or the crackling of fire. The light, silvery tinkle of the ice relinquishing its hold on branches and clattering to the ground.
Even the fences were encased, the ice forming a glass-like echo as it pulled away.
And the Bluebird of Happiness wasn’t so happy trying to cling to the click sumacs.