It's been a banner winter for icicles: they are more abundant and larger than I've ever seen them. In the early morning they glow with the warm light of the rising sun.
The temperatures have been warm enough to melt the roof snow, which drips and drips, forming more and longer icicles; the temperatures have been cold enough that they've hung on for days.
On the north side of the house, the icicles have joined forces, forming an almost solid wall of ice at the roof line.
A veil of glittering light enlivens the landscape.
Pillows of snow end in daggers of ice.
The honeysuckle at the front door is dripping with ice, while a geranium blooms in indoor warmth.
I so often wonder about the emotions of my cats. I would like to assign a wistful feeling to Poppy as she stares out at the cold and snow; does she think of summer?
This afternoon, with a loud Crash! the snow and ice came off the roof. The cats were traumatized: frozen in place, they wondered what in the world had happened. Two milder days, with temperatures around 20º (that feels warm, believe me!) and some sun, caused the snow to slide off the metal roof. I'm going to miss the light captured in those icicles.