I missed Winterfest here because of a snowstorm. By the time the ice on my road had melted enough for me to get downtown, only the giant demo ice sculpture in the park’s gazebo was left. I saw it shining in the sun as I got out of my car.
Ice bird after melting.
The gorgeous upper wing looked like glass. The big bird was surrounded by water from its melting. I stood with a young mother admiring what was left when she asked, “What kind of bird is that?”
Big wing, small beak
The details of the wing made it look strong with long feathers like an eagle in flight, but the beak was thin and pointed. The head looked more like that of a dove. The beak was not the hooked, flesh-tearing shape of a raptor.
Pointed head and beak like a doves.
So after days of melting in the warmth of the afternoon sun, this bird had its details softened. The wings still looked big and strong like an eagle’s, but the beak looked thin like the dove of peace without the olive branch.
This hybrid ice bird made me ponder America at this point. Can we be both strong like our national bird the bald eagle and still be a symbol for peace like a dove?
What will it take for this country to morph into something both strong and peaceful? I hope we figure that out.
FLOWER
The link below is from the town’s facebook page so you can see other sculptures including a smaller version of the bird in question.
I am skeptical about everything. I collect information carefully and take notes and pictures. I did these things when a video popped up about a new treatment for dementia, Alzheimers and Parkinson’s disease.
Dementia will likely be my fate, Parkinson’s is my friend’s. I desperately search for anything that might interfer with the progression Parkinson’s symptoms and memory loss.
We slowly lost parts of our mother over many years. It was heartbreaking to watch. I do not want to drain my family’s energy and resources by becoming a burden. We have worked really hard for what we have.
The video included two famous doctors that I respect. It also included a mention of indigenous population with high dementia incidences in Guam. Two famous actors were interviewed who claimed they had been helped by the supplement.
The cause of supposed memory decline was caused by numerous pollutants, especially cadmium chloride. Cadmium is a toxic metal. The video claimed the metal could be removed by a special honey and damage restored by an herb. Too good to be true!
Then a white and purple bottle appeared. I took a screen shot of it. Thank goodness I did this. I tried to save the video, but it disappeared. I sent it to my sister.
I searched for the bottle on the internet. The purple and white bottles looked slightly different than the photo I took. The fake FDA sticker strategically covered the brand name.
I have been spending alot of time in one of the chairs we call ‘Daddy’s Chair’ by the window in my parents’ bedroom on the mountain. More snow came last night. I watched a firetruck and ambulance drive by with lights on. There was a car slid off the slick pavement in the curve up the road. I could see the flashing red lights through the snow and passing cloud. It was getting dark.
Traffic lined up in the white and darkness waiting to pass. The emergency vehicles finally left, but the line of traffic stayed. Two big dump trucks went around the line, on the wrong side of the road in the dark. They must have had a mission involving the mishap.
I kept leaving the window to do chores and coming back to check the line of stopped cars and trucks. Some turned around and left. Others pulled up to wait. This went on for over two hours.
I washed dishes. They were waiting. I took a shower. Still waiting. I read a chapter. Still out there. Were they cold? Hungry? Tired? Probably yes to all three.
On the community website folks ask about the safety of those involved. No complaints or whining. Just concern and sharing information. Communicating while patiently waiting.
I saw it all from my daddy’s chair by the window. His morning lookout. Daddy would sit here to drink coffee in the mornings. My sis and I would sneak in with our own cups and sit on the edge of our parents’ bed. Sometimes our poor mom would still be in bed and have to scooch over to make room for us.
We would discuss what Daddy had seen out the window and what he hoped the day would bring. We would catch up on the neighborhood news. Swap stories and quietly laugh as others slept.
I thought about those times as I kept coming back to that chair to peek out the window into the darkness, hoping not to see a row of lights still stranded out in the cold.
My being here on the mountain keeps my parents near me. Especially when I sit in my Daddy’s chair by the window.
I could have headed south before the storms. Back to my other home where someone else would haul the wood and build the fires. But what would I gain from that, being comfortable and cared for like a cat?
The fiery beast.
I was raised to be smart and strong. But mishaps have happened. I feel I have lost those attributes. I have things to prove to myself. Even now…Especially now.
This collosal storm has raged for days. I have studied the ice, snow, wind and rain. This has not been a relaxing experience, but a necessary one. I belong in the world, not protected from it.
The first wave of snow was heavy and dense. It glistened as it blew and clung to the trees. The temperatures dropped and the wind picked up. By that second white afternoon, I felt I must prepare for power outages. Water was stored in every bathroom and the kitchen.
I rolled out the kerosene heater on its cart and lit it to be sure it worked. I got out flashlights and candles. There must be heat and light.
All pipes in the basement were safe except the one climbing up the front wall which supplies an outside spigot. That pipe was double-wrapped with paper bags and packing materials.
Packing materials for insulating pipe against outer wall.
A fire was layed in the beast of a woodstove my father bought used from some mountain folk down a dirt road. I remember we thought he was unwise to buy that giant rusty box. My daddy always saw the veiled possibilities in things.
Rusty box stove that Daddy refurbished.
I hauled in seven more wheel barrow loads of firewood into the basement. I placed the wood in lawn chairs, so I would not need to lift heavy pieces from the floor. I had been saving cardboard and scrap paper to start fires with. Such is my habit of burning or recycling as much as possible.
Will this be enough wood?
I was exhausted by about 3:00. I felt the tipping point of the ice-loaded trees was eminent. I opened my bedroom blinds and got under a blanket to wait for the sound of snapping trees.
Too much ice.
Sounds started slowly and softly. The wind picked up and pattering noises got louder and faster. This was not the loud crackings that I had expected.
I got up and looked out. Instead of limbs falling, the ice on the trees was slipping off the branches and crashing to the ground. A rain was loosening the ice’s grip on the limbs. The thuds and plops went on for hours. Rain had arrived just as the ice had gotten too heavy for the trees.
This miracle rain had saved the trees and the power lines. Now the grass was a mat of hard-frozen ice with sprinkles of shiny ice shards on top.
The next snow came at dark and continued through the night. This snow was like fine glitter that did not cling to things. It sparkled and blew like fairy dust filling the sky and making dunes in the low places and against any barriers to the wind.
Snow left in the lee.
The snow and winds filled the skies for another day. The winds roared like a train that next night. Snow blew through the screens and filled the space against the windows.
Laundry room window with packed snow.Layers of snow behind the screen door. Snow dune behind it on the porch.
Dunes drifted from place to place. Their shapes and textures changed throughout the day. Holes in mounds seemed to form for no reason. Points jutted out of piles as if the wind had been blocked like a lee behind a stone, but no stone was visible.
Sculpted snow dunes and icicles at picnic table.
The wind is still blowing tonight. I am sure the dunes will be different in the morning. The sun should shine tomorrow. Some ice may melt.
A snow drift covers the road . The red stake marks my driveway.
What did I learn? I learned where the wind follows the contours of our property. I saw how it split around our house and strengthened as it headed down the slopes. I now know how the water flows and where the snow drifts and where the ice melts last.
I had to prove that I am capable of taking care of this house and myself. I will no longer let fear tell me what to do. I need to rely on myself.
I am glad that I did not lose power. I am grateful that my driveway and road are somewhat clear again. I will adapt to any changes that happen. I appreciate assistance but do not expect it.
My family predicted I would be lonely on the mountain. My husband insisted on checking on me during a lull between storms. I enjoyed his company but worried about his driving in the snow. We want everyone safe but there will always be risks. Worry and fear are not anyone’s friends.
Snow dune moving this way all day long.
I was raised to be smart and strong, but mishaps happened and I forgot who I was for a bit.
I had to stay on the mountain with myself to remember.
I am in North Carolina. A red state in the south of the United States. Every day brings a new tactic from our present government to discredit some person, place or thing.
Yesterday, 700 boxes of ballots from the 2020 election were taken from Georgia.
I missed this. My sis had to tell me this morning. What will they do with the ballots. Count them again? Destroy them? Make a list of names those who voted against t?
ANYTHING BUT THE EPSTEIN FILES!
My personal worries today are getting my mail and hoping my young neighbors return my snowshovel before the next storm arrives tomorrow.
My driveway.
I did call my Republican representatives…again.
MAYBE YOU CAN CALL THEM, ALSO?
THOM TILLIS 202-224-6342 or 919-856-4630 TED BUDD 202-224-3154
As you have witnessed, our leadership does not respect human life, the law or borders.
It seems that I am the most grateful when I am perched on the edge of a disaster. I saw the tipping point yesterday.
I am on the other side now. Listening to wind howl. Watching snow that cannot hit the ground. Seeing dancing trees that only yesterday at three o’clock were white with heavy ice.
A rain came at four and washed the ice off. The crashing down of the ice layer went on for hours. The trees were free again.
Ice-free trees can bend, not break.
That is the lesson here. Nature is made to bend. Forces may make the trees sway and bend, but but breakage only occurs to unyielding things.
If you are in ice right now. There is one thing to watch. The posture of the evergreens. These trees have evolved through ice and snow. They are designed to bend downward instead of breaking. Right now I am surrounded by evergreen trees covered in ice. They are holding up well. When the load starts to be too much, the limbs will bend down and rest on the limbs below. They will start to look like a closing umbrella.
Trimmed bottom limbs
If you trimmed off the bottom limbs, there will not be lower support and the whole system may collapse. I have a trimmed evergreen out one window and an untrimmed tree out from another.
Untrimmed lower limbs.
These two trees will tell me when/if the ice is too heavy to hold. Once the cracking starts, other types of trees are in danger also.
When this collapsing starts, the probability that you will lose power increases greatly because limbs and trees will come down.
We are also expecting wind later. Wind is not a friend to ice-covered trees. If the temps get really low, sap will freeze and trees will explode.
floweralley 