December in Connecticut usually means ice rather than snow, the ground not yet frozen, the temperature wickedly variable and therefore usually a bit windy.   This is not a good combination.  Ice is, no question, very pretty.  Some ice is prettier than other ice.  Hoarfrost on a truly cold day, rising from a river, is out of this world.  Every tree a glittering, iridescent sculpture of purest white, against a clear, cold blue sky.

We don’t get that.  We get ice storms, and one watches the trees bend under the accumulated tons.  Sometimes great shards of ice will crack free, and the branch whips up.  Other times, the branch bends and then shatters.  If you are in the right spot at the right time, you will hear the first few warning cracks before it explodes.  But you don’t see it coming.  Heavily weighted trees can snap in half or, when the wind picks up to even the slightest of breezes and the ground is muddy, simply fall over.

Thankfully, this week’s storm shifted to rain.  An elegant coating without danger, that melted into the fog.