It's just lovely in Glasgow this morning, and I'm pausing to savour the moment.

The grass sparkles with white frost.

The sky is a clear pale blue.

From my front windows, the Campsie Fells are seen in full relief beyond the skyline of the city.

And from the rear the south side glistens in the morning sun.

Clouds of chilled breath rise from pedestrians and motorists scrape windscreens.

The trees in red-gold-green-yellow-brown array defy the inevitable one day more

Children trail to school and parents chivvy them onwards.

On a morning like this

There are dances to be danced

Songs to be sung

And a creator to be praised.