I noticed tonight

the frost on the grass as I walked to my apartment. It glittered dimly there in the frigid, silent evening. As I walked, it twinkled and winked briskly. Even upon stopping and standing still, the life in the frost seemed to continue as if it was a city of lights with a beat of it own. Thousands of reflections, moving, pulsing, creating a show on the dark ground.

I looked to the heavens with a set of twinklers of its own. They were fewer, dimmer somehow. Some of their beauty was damped out by the harsh orange glow of the wretched city lights. They shone on, smug in the knowledge that they, as well as the reflections in the grass, would exist long past myself.

It was comforting somehow...