The ice storm started Friday night. It didn’t melt until Sunday night.
It was beautiful and spooky.
No neighbors were out with the chain saws. Very little shooting, either, so it was a human quiet.
The ice crackles. Limbs broke.
At night, it drizzled off and on, with fog and mist hanging in the air. Everything seemed muffled, except the ice.
We were well provisioned with the necessities and the wood stove added its warmth.
As we listened to the crackling ice, and as I watched the ice laden and terminally ill trees, I wondered if a tree would hit the house. As I walked around taking pictures, I wondered if a tree would fall and take me out.
Beautiful. Spooky. A little terrifying.