There are wonderful things happening lately when the sun shines. The sun’s warmth is enough to melt the icicles hanging off the eaves drip by drip. But it’s still cold enough to re-freeze the drips into new formations as they fall onto objects below encasing twigs and wires in sheaths of clear glass. These sculptural icicles remind me of the mirrored stalactites and stalagmites that form in limestone caves – some drips coalescing mid-air, others merging into towering pillars that rise up from the ground.
I am amazed at the birds who winter here. That their tiny, hearts and hollow bones can withstand the unrelenting cold. Life itself seems impossible in this season. Can such barren branches again bear leaves, even fruit? Will we wake one day to find the whole world turned green again overnight?
The life force is there sleeping beneath the snow, nurtured under fur and feathers, incubating in the depths of the seeds. I take heart in knowing that nature always finds a way. And so do we.
Nature delights the eye with forms at once unique and yet bearing resemblance. The field of ice on the window pane, intricately composed of thousands of crystals becomes a forest of miniature pine trees, each delicate needle highlighted by a dusting of snow. Or a cloud of floating feathers suspended in mid-air. Each part revealing its own special form – individual, yet inseparable from the harmonious whole.