Several times in a Virginia winter, God applies on our woodland landscape a coat of lustrous, sheeny ice. He chooses a time between a snow day and freezing rain—beautiful, spectacular, but treacherous to navigate with two feet or four moving tires.
Such a
day is today, misty and fog-shrouded but splendid when the sun tries
to peek out of the murky clouds.
I sit cozy and content indoors
viewing God's handiwork with awe through my picture window across the
valley toward the distant mountain before it begins to drip and
disappear.
ICELAND IN VIRGINIA
Leona Choy
Glistening
crystal icicles
adorn
the oaks and shrubs and evergreens
stiffening
tiny twigs to their fingertips
coating
naked branches
painting
bark on barren trees
with
glass and gloss from ground to crown.
Stark
silence shrouds my woodland haven
punctuated
by sudden eerie cracks
of
heavy limbs falling in slow motion
piercing
the crusted snow carpet
that
stretches from road to pond.
My
muted world stands motionless
except
for frenzied snow birds
competing
with bold gray squirrels
for
each sunflower seed
in
my ice-glazed bird feeder.
Dusk
descends on slippered feet
chill
deepens over the frozen scene
a
shivering cold moon rises to cast
silver
light on the sparkling woodland splendor
as
I thrill at the awesome scene
of
my private Iceland wonderland
after
a Shenandoah Valley Virginia ice storm.
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