This past week has been a difficult one for plants, animals and people. Each morning, I would heat up a 2 gallon pot of water on my trusty propane stove, and defreeze all the animals' water buckets. This was repeated each evening. For a week, we never got above freezing at our daytime highs. For the Yards up top, for Teeghkii & Chance, and the Goat Royal Court, I used my wee wagon. I found a 5 gallon bucket I saved from earlier which has a rubber seal inside the lid, so it will seal, and stay sealed even if I accidentally tip the wagon over. Which I did every time, for some reason. Clumsy I guess :~)
It was a dry cold, with no moisture. I am hoping I will not lose too many plants. Plants don't much care to get frozen solid with dry roots. So we scrambled this past week.
Yesterday, the rains came. It was freezing rain, a constant drizzley very "wet" rain which soaked every thirsty thing. This morning when I went outside to hie me off to work, leaving a half an hour early just in case -which didn't help much- the sun poured golden over the landscape filtering through the diamond-festooned trees in beams of syrupy light. Each leaf, each branch, the seed heads I leave for the birds, all were bedazzled by frozen pieces of moonlight captured for the dawn.
The ground was slick with an invisable layer of treachery. I scraped and scraped to chip the ice off the windshield, resisting the urge to dump a pot of hot water all over the windshield. I know where that will lead, and it's not pretty. Started the truck up and reached the end of driveway. I got out and took a couple of steps into the street, and watched a truck pass on by with no troubles. My halting steps were quite like skiing with no skis, so I pulled the chains out and attached them to my back tires. Pulling out of the driveway, I noticed my wee truck skittering like a spooky colt. Fishtailing and bucking, I slowly made my way in first gear down the middle of the street praying no-one would be coming up the hill, or pull out from a driveway.
As I crept down my quite steep hill, I noticed the sunlight stroking the frozen leaves with tender ministrations. The beams prismed through each diamond drop casting tiny rainbows hither and yon. As I passed beneath the trees as they lean across the road, they dropped a mist of hail, of frozen solid raindrops losing their grip on their perches pummeling passers-beneath. The sunlight bathed the larger trees with silver light, illuminating each tiny drop as they fell.
I had to pay close attention to my squirrely truck as she wiggled and giggled down the hill, but the sight of all those crystalline raindrops clinging to their leafy boughs was glorious! It was beautiful. It was treacherous. It was dangerous dreaming filled with morning jewels.