In winter's grip

Winter isn't just a season around here. It's a state of mind.

It's also a mighty and primal force of its own, which often humbles me with its careless power.

My little wooden house was rocked this week by strong winds that caused the siding to creak and protest, and the thin glass in my ancient sash windows to rattle about like loose coins in a poor man's piggy bank. I also freely admit to panicking a little when I spotted a rather significant quantity of black shingles on my front lawn ... then I noticed they were actually from my neighbour's roof. A selfish "whew" and a neighbourly "oh dear" ensued simultaneously.

We've been pummeled by freezing temperatures and arctic winds for the past two weeks or so. By early February, we often (and falsely) feel as though the worst of the season is behind us, and we start anticipating those balmy temperatures and first hesitant shoots of green (not to mention the mud puddles and fossilized remains of fall trash) that act as signposts to our Eastern spring.

Today, however, I was struck by the casual ferocity of our cold, cold season.

I was snapping a few outdoor pics when I noticed something that clearly did not belong. A stack of neatly piled firewood sat on the side of a neighbouring family's driveway. Nothing unusual, right? But when I looked up, I saw what looked like a Dutch wooden clog glued to an electrical cable strung diagonally in front of this house.

I figured it was just a chunk of wood that had fallen during the family's recent tree-trimming exercise and had somehow gotten caught on the cable. When I looked more closely, however, I noticed it wasn't dangling on the cable. The back of the wood chunk was firmly attached to the cable... by a thick, clear layer of ice.

Wow, Mother Nature. What a whimsical way to prove you have dominion over ALL the land, even the unfortunate bits of flotsam and jetsam that prosaically litter our day. Not to mention the breathtaking sense of timing involved in adhering wood to steel cable with frozen water, in just the right amount to set it overhead like a timber Sword of Damocles (kind of like training wheels, but for medieval weaponry).

Colour me impressed.