Frosty Chaos
- AUTHORAndy Hawthorne
- PUBLISHED09-01-2025
I’m no fitness nut.
I don’t run. Don’t bike. Don’t play games like that any more. Done all that before.
What I do is walk. Miles of it, whenever I can. And the camera comes too.
I walk every day, and I mean to do it right. Get the heart going, lungs working. Walk like it matters.
But when I see a shot, I take it.
This morning, I was out. It was cold, Baltic-level cold. The kind that bites. The sun was up, but that didn’t help much. Just made it bright, made me squint as I froze.
Then I saw it. A mess of frost and wild trees. Undergrowth tangled like it hadn’t been touched in years. Winter’s hand on everything—barren and raw.
First thought was, frosty chaos.
I stood there a while, looking. And the longer I looked, the better it got. There was a picture in it. Just as it was.
Why?
Because it was honest. A landscape in its time — deep winter. That frost still has me shivering just thinking about it.
But I’m glad I had my camera.