Frost (Prose)

The cold from the sky, bites into the grass and turns the grass from green to a
beautiful shimmery white-silver. It looks delicate as a spider web, woven
through the land, spanning out before our eyes. The white trembles and dissolves
if you touch, but you always dare to touch it, leaving only the plain green
grass that was there before.Why does the cold turn the grass white? And it why
is it so delicate? It melts into nothingness when the sunshine touches its
silvery stems. And by the time, I go to see it, the phenomena is gone.