Icicles bring a sense of dread to me, similar to the Greek legend of the sword of Damocles. Perhaps my fear of these icy daggers comes from my childhood when I broke off a very large icicle. The bottom part went where I intended, but the larger upper part crashed through a six foot wide picture window. As my self-prescribed therapy I decided to try and capture some of the beauty of ice. In the process I also caught some icy hands reaching down . . . more to worry about! (What? Me worry?)
Snow also has a fearsome yet gentle beauty about it. It can be dangerous to drive in, but it also has a mystical, soothing quality. The last image is from my deck. Following that image is a poem that often comes to mind this time of year. Merry Christmas to all.
Falls the snow, I feel it.
Crystal candles dropping
soft hush-light on our world;
pine trees shower snow dust
from moon silhouettes
as west winds swish to ease reverie.
Deep blue midnight surrounds two.
Our steps leave memories in the snow
as warm hearts fight cold silence.
We wandered peaceful through the night,
each to each thinking on days past.
Pure Snow Brilliance would shout our guilt
but snow-wrought memories returned us to
our innocent youths
and like children
we embraced the early morning snow with frolic.
Blanketed in snow, we laughed,
but hollow echos told the truth.
It was gone
and tears grew cold upon our faces.