Frosty but no snow, Man.

"It was a black and white day of frost, which crawled along the dark trees and outlined twig and branch. The air was misty, and distant objects assumed a mysterious importance. Slight sounds, too, suggested infinite activities to the mind."

Robert Smythe Hichens

The climate change deniers are leaping about in a single point data delirium, as local temperatures plummet to below zero. "Surely!", they proudly squawk, "The planet cannot be warming if the temperature is below zero in some parts!"

What fun to us are those bereft of any formal training in The Scientific Method, and also beholden to the shrinking echo chambers found in the same corners of the internet where Michael Jackson and Elvis Presley are still alive and living on a (somewhat hotter than average) desert island together.

In the meantime, clutching our newly stamped "climate refugees" passports we revel in the wispy white mornings where mist clings to our faces and the cold can penetrate the soul if one is not too careful about appropriate outer layers.

It is indeed glorious here in Tassie and some our recent visitors have been gasping in awe at the beauty.  It is difficult enough to comprehend on the ground, but even more superlative from the air. 

See below a snap taken from the comfortable cabin of a Boeing 737 as we descended into Hobart recently after a hectic 12 days on our own desert island of Rarotonga (although sadly no Elvis or Michael in sight).

Actually, it wasn't that hectic - more like Groundhog Day on Valium! Bliss here and bliss there.

Home sweet home