Frosty Winter Riddles for Chilly Challenges

I draw on glass without a pen, my patterns glow at half past ten. What am I?

I'm a frozen whisper clinging to trees, glistening white when there's no breeze. What am I?

I'm a silent drop that froze mid-fall, hanging from eaves like crystal shawl. What am I?

I'm a blanket that sparkles, yet melts with a touch. Too much warmth, and I'm gone as such. What am I?

I'm a storm with a freezing name, swirling snow is my favorite game. What am I?

I'm a sled of art carved by hand, a palace of ice rising from the land. What am I?

I'm the crunch beneath your feet when the morning frost and sunrise meet. What am I?

I'm a window to winter, sharp and clear, reflecting the season's shimmering cheer. What am I?

I'm the halo around a cold moon at night, predicting snow with a glowing light. What am I?

I'm tiny and biting, I make noses red, I tickle your face as you trudge to bed. What am I?

I'm the sparkle on mittens after you play, a glittery souvenir from the day. What am I?

I'm the soft crunch inside every step, reminding you winter's tightly kept. What am I?

I'm water that sparkles without a stream, I turn landscapes into a dream. What am I?

I'm a flurry's finale, a hush in the night, wrapping the town in pearly white. What am I?

I'm the shimmer you see when headlights glow, scattering diamonds across the snow. What am I?