On my way to feed the goats this mourning I noticed the distictive sheen of frost at my feet. The min/max thermometer at the house said the low last night was 38. It reads the temperature about 10ft above the bridge on the opposit side of the house. I’ve never seen micro climates so evident as they are here. Our field sits in a little depression surrounded by large cottonwoods. This provides some protection from the wind, but the cold air seeps in from the surrounding area and drians right through the meadow following the drainage to the pond and bridge. This morning was a very lite frost. Even the dew covered grass on the edge of the bridge was heavy with water drops, not crystals.