Last January I had a short obsession with ice.
Temperatures remained below freezing for such a long time, I began building a “sculpture” from blocks of ice that fell out of the bird baths each morning.
It was February 21st before a melt began.
By the 28th of February, the sculpture was gone but I discovered this curiosity one cold morning.
Somehow an ice funnel had formed.
It was great fun.
Until this morning, ice had not really featured much this year.
There was a fox in the ice on my window.
This year’s ice is the treacherous kind.
“Black ice” they call it in England.
Our pathway isn’t black, but is thick with ice.
There was a lack of enthusiasm for the morning walk.
Even Toby wasn’t game.
When the door opened, he ran out and skidded.
He quickly changed course and I met him at the porch door where he hastily scurried in.
Swarm usually arrives with the Sun but they had given up waiting for it to appear and were shrieking that I should hurry up with their food.
A couple of starlings have been visiting lately:
“Freezing rain is not our preferred flying condition!” they complained.
Downy woodpecker spent a long moment contemplating the offering. Maybe just sheltering.
Refilling the feeders, I nearly slid off the porch.
This is the sort of ice that takes no prisoners.
Sheets of ice were forming over everything, coating twigs and weighing down branches
My poor tree!
My poor lilac!
When the sun shines on these conditions, it is a sight to behold. Alas it is so damaging.
The not so nice,