One of our kitchen windows was iced over with frost the other morning. When I was young, I couldn't resist etching some message in a frost covered sheet of glass. It was usually on the second story window seat overlooking Back Bay. These days I stop and ponder more at the intricate designs set upon the glass by nature's hand. At seven below zero, mother nature has quite a bit of artistic license to play with on this frigid canvas. It's exciting. Every time she 'paints,' it's an intriguing pattern.