Before it is even light today, I hear the tell-tale tik-tik-tik of icy beads tapping the windows. Later, sheets of rain and sleet fall and freeze. The bricks in the garden path gradually disappear below a thick layer of slush. Soon, the tangled wisteria vines are ice-glazed and the pine boughs hang heavy. Even in the dim light, all the stems and branches gleam slightly silver.
When the storm eases, I walk in the rain in the gardens. Watching. Listening. Trees sway and crackle in the breeze, and bits of ice cascade downward in tinkling showers. Rose hips glow dusky red beneath their cold new skin. Leaves and pods and seed heads appear both familiar and foreign, fully encased in ice. It all feels a bit otherworldly, like a place out of time, waiting. I feel that way too often these days–encased in ice or adrift in an unfamiliar world. And always waiting. Waiting for the vaccine. Waiting for the thaw. Waiting for some sort of new “normal.”
Even though I’m on Winter Break right now, with more time to write, I wasn’t planning on posting here today. I’ve fallen out of my Tuesday SOL habit to make room for some other ones. But I miss this space. I miss this community. I miss finding that once I start writing small moments, I notice more of them. This kind of writing wakes me up to the world around me in a different way.
So today, while waiting, I wrote. Not much, but it feels good.
Nix the comfort zone 
Waiting certainly has become a way of life, hasn’t it? The weather here in North Alabama has been similar over the last few days–cold, ice, and snow. Everything is coated in a day-old coating of clear ice, with inch-long icicles hanging like Christmas tree decorations as a result of a brief warm-up before the temps plummeted last night.
Enjoy your weather and your break–stay warm, but enjoy it! Thank you for the beautiful pictures in addition to your post.
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It’s so strange to share a winter weather experience with southern folk! We are definitely more prepared for it up here, but it still felt odd or out of time.
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Thank you for sharing your gardens and thoughts with us. I felt like I was walking with you. With the waiting comes much hope and a promise of better days.
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What a lovely optimistic outlook. Thanks for sharing that!
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Your opening description reads like a diary of Walden or someone like him. The flow of language through morning’s revelations. We have what you describe, which is very strange for us. We don’t handle freezing rain well. With our generator running, and the wind blowing ice and snow, it felt much like a hurricane. Hunkering down with a fire and a good book was the order of the day.
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Margaret, it’s odd to imagine you experiencing wind blowing snow and ice! Do you have an estimate for how long you’ll be without power? Take care and enjoy the fireside reading and some down time.
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We got power back last night. Now dealing with broken pipes and water pressure. Our homes are not built for this.
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Yay for power but broken pipes are NOT fun! Hope you warm up soon!
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Margaret, I am so sorry for you and all the others dealing with these issues. Take care.
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Molly, your writing is so picturesque. Even before I saw your beautiful photos I felt like I was walking with you hearing the ice ping. I hear you about the waiting. Nature waits for spring, but we don’t know how long we’ll be waiting. Still being in nature inspires the person who takes time to truly see the beauty, a person who takes it in, and a person who gifts it to the world. Thank you Molly for your inspiring post. I’m happy for you that you have a slower pace this week to ponder and reflect. Enjoy.
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Thanks, Gail. I’m definitely enjoying the slower pace!
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Molly, I forgot to mention that your words “I miss finding that once I start writing small moments, I notice more of them. This kind of writing wakes me up to the world around me in a different way. So today, while waiting, I wrote. Not much, but it feels good.” really resonated with me because I find it to be true, also. It was in my head, but I wasn’t able to put it into words, as you have eloquently done. Oh, and you say you wrote “not much.” I think you wrote a lot because of the meaning and value of your words. You know that saying, “less is more.” I am glad that your words felt good, because you deserve it. Rejuvenate this week.
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Thanks so much for coming back to add this comment–I appreciate it!
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Molly, the first paragraph opens with such a beautiful scene as exemplified by this line: “Even in the dim light, all the stems and branches gleam slightly silver.” Then, you follow with the connecting thought of waiting. I liked the repetition of the word here. I, too, am glad for this community of writers.
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It’s such a supportive community, Carol! It can be hard when I’m pulled in different directions and have to cut back on things I really enjoy doing to do other things I enjoy.
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I really felt this piece. That was wonderful. Such beautiful images too, the third down is my favourite!
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It felt so good to participate in SOL again. Thanks so much for stopping by and commenting!
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These lines ring true for me. “once I start writing small moments, I notice more of them. This kind of writing wakes me up to the world around me in a different way.” A three week summer writing program at UNH focused on the teaching of writing (1/3 of the time) and our writing (2/3 of the time – brilliant division for the teaching of writing!) and the more I wrote, the more I saw writing possibilities.
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