Wednesday, February 18, 2015


Yesterday morning we woke up to a frozen world.  I'd never seen a true ice storm before moving to South Carolina.  In Michigan, the frozen trees would hang over a powdery blanket of snow.  Here, the freezing rain comes without snow, and everything from the grass to the houses to the trees are glazed in ice.

My office had a delayed opening, so I tried to take some pictures and soak it in: the trees splaying cold fingers against the sky cloudy with dawn and winter.  The chickens pecking hesitantly at the ice.  Our bamboo grove doubled over from the weight.

As I rounded the corner of the house, a bluebird that had been drinking from a puddle flew off: his wings a shock of blue against the glassy landscape.  His breast the red of a summer strawberry.

Then the sun was up. The woods echoed with the cracking and shattering of the trees breaking free.

Meanwhile, inside...

I used the extra time to cut in the bathroom paint.

Fingers crossed for a few more snow days.

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