We woke up earlier this week to an ice-covered world. The dogwood tree outside the bedroom window greeted me looking like a cocktail hostess wrapped in a silvery sheath.

The glittery theme continued in the garden, where the lady’s mantle posed as a crystal chandelier resting on its side, and the lavender wore translucent stockings.

The driveway had a coating that was treacherous, but easily shattered like the best stained glass candy.

In the woods, it took us a while to negotiate the trail — why didn’t we remember to dig out our ice cleats?

Still, we walked. We saw tree branches, wrapped in ice, reaching across the path with ET-like fingers.

There was evidence of fairies messing with trees during the night.

And shades of Dr. Seuss.

Pine needles turned into elongated jewels.

It was as if the ice, in coating the plants, the trees, the driveway, and the trail, had also frozen time, and encased us in a cold but protective cocoon. A magic trick.

All too soon the trick was over, and time resumed its normal pace, as the ice quickly melted away.

Next week, I hope to replicate that magic by slowing down and savoring every quiet and not-so-quiet moment with loved ones. I hope you can do the same: take a breath and reflect, before we all gear up for 2013.

I wish all of you safe, happy, holidays, and health and joy in the coming year.