We watched it basically rain ice for two days in the run-up to Christmas, grateful for our woodstove and electricity. Eventually, like 100,000 other Mainers, our electricity gave out. But unlike most of those 100,000 ours was restored at light speed (sorry). We were only out overnight into mid-morning. Others are still out and will be for a week.
While it’s dark inside many homes, outside it’s all aglitter. Everything is encased in an inch of crystalline splendor, but it’s a brittle beauty. One bump and branches shatter. That’s how I pruned the fruiting heads from the raspberries today, a long overdue chore made easier by ice. Heh. And they say procrastination doesn’t pay. But that may be the only thing made easier. Walking was not easier until a dusting of snow frosted the ice. Cars are sealed shut like tombs and tree limbs and wires are one good gust from snapping.
Ice makes life difficult for animals too. Today we discovered a raccoon munching on our frozen apples in the garage. We finally composted the apples and we’re hoping the little fella has checked out of Chez Milne. I feel bad for him, but given the number of apples we just liberated, he should be all set.
But ice does have its uses, besides clinking together in a festive drink. Today my yard is an ice sculpture exhibit, courtesy of my husband’s irreverent artistic sensibility. Pretty cool.