Unfortunately, the sun never came out after this ice storm, but the land was still transformed. My crabapples kept their lovely red berries with frozen drips at the bottom, and the branches were twice as thick with ice...
Finally, it stopped, and perhaps for the first time in more than two months, the thermometer made it all the way up to 40 degrees, and I stepped out into a truly noisy world. The air was filled with loud and raucous crackling, ironically much like the sound of a huge blazing fire. The cracking and popping proceeded from the melting of the ice, loosening its hold on branches and roofs everywhere, and falling in great noisy chunks all around. It was so unusual, and unexpectedly exhilarating! Children have the ability to be thrilled by every little thing, because everything is so new to them. But those of us who have seen decades of seasons come and go are rarely as thrilled by the events of the natural world around us. Then, something happens that doesn’t happen often in our lives – maybe a cicada summer, when the air is loud with the ceaseless buzzing of invisible musicians who can’t even hear their own song, or a sudden sunshower, with rain pouring down while the sun shines brightly – or an ice storm, coating the world in crystal, then filling the air with loud syncopated rhythms as it all comes crashing down. I am thankful for the occasional reminder I receive to see the world anew, and to stand in awe of it again, and of its Maker.