I. The morning sun peeks through the frosty air, As tendrils of fog creep on silent feet, Enveloping the world with hushed despair, A winter shroud, a mystical white sheet. The trees stand tall, adorned in icy lace, Their branches engraved with delicate frost, Like whispers of winter, frozen embrace, Nature's artwork, beautifully embossed. And there, amidst the fog's ethereal haze, A bright orange fox emerges, swift and sly, Disguised by the mist's mysterious ways, In search of sustenance, its keen eyes spy. Oh, winter morning, so serene and cold, With fog and frost, a beauty to behold. II. As dawn breaks, the fog begins to retreat, Unveiling the world, slowly bit by bit, Revealing the wonders beneath its sheet, The evergreens, adorned in emerald knit. The frost on leaves, adorns in lacy lines, Bejeweled ice crystals, shimmering with grace, The evidence of nature's grand design, A frozen canvas, woven with no haste. The bright orange fox, in stea…