Forecasted weather reports predicted a wintry mix of sleet and rain and a band of icy weather. A rainy night and low temperatures created an iced landscape at daybreak, resembling silvered branches with crystalized lace.
The morning had an eerie stillness until trees burdened with ice pressed into their branches dared to resist gravity. Trees creaking in shifting winds became audible. Some could not withstand the extra weight, evident in the sound of timber cracking resembling gunfire. Limbs clawed against nearby trees as they fell before hitting the ground with a thud. Then it happened again, nearby or further away; fractured trunks split in two, which echoed and ricocheted off each other.
The movement of skeletal branches caused by a breeze crinkled with ice crystal chimes. Thin birch trunks were arched until their tips touched the ground sprinkled with sleet confetti, and every blade of grass wore an ice sleeve. Pine boughs drooped with heavy clumps of needled skirts. We wondered where the birds would go; there seemed no safe hiding place.
Dried leftover flowers froze in an arrangement of brown seed pods and burgundy stems. We had forgotten them but were thankful they were suspended for our pleasure. We discovered artic shapes in a rolled-up wire, diagonal icicles hung from our roof, and intricate designs filled in voids between fences and suet feeders.
As we wait for spring amidst this ice storm, Bufflehead ducks entertain us with their playful disappearing acts beneath the lake’s surface, eating weeds. Patiently, we wait to see where they will bounce back up again.
Ice and sleet have drastically changed the appearance of nature while creating a different landscape out our window. The forest's blackened trunks created diagonal, vertical lines, reminding me of the crisscrossed hatch marks of an artist’s ink pen. Amidst the grayscale values, I noticed a jagged edge of fresh lumber that gave the stage the finality of its last bow.
When the weather warms, there will be plenty of cleanups to do. Then, we will cut and split timber left behind in preparation for next winter.
Even on this cold, icy morning, I heard a goldfinch sing, and our expectation of spring is heightened with an unopened bag of deer-resistant wildflower seeds waiting to be planted.
Do you experience a change of weather that catches you off guard? What story does nature tell in patterns, colors, and sounds? I would love to read your comments; please leave them below.
