Outside the trees sway and sparkle in the sun, like crystals someone tied to every tip and nub. We went for a good hour and a half hike at Lake Louisa (which is pretty much our extended back yard) and decided to take the orage trail which we've never hiked before. The trail was icy and essentially nerve wracking when walking down the stone steps that crosses the beaver day and the swift moving stream that passes through it. A slow and steady wind creeped through the tree tops and it would make us stop stock still to hear the moaning of the frozen trees, weighted by hundreds of pounds of ice, or the slow creaking of the branches heavily swaying, and the cracking of the ice and it's fall to crispy leaves below, which I thought looked like frosted flakes, a sugary frost over deep tan and crispy flakes.

Halfway in (although we weren't aware we were halfway through at this point; we both commented on the drive home that the hike was longer that we thought it would be) we began to notice the subtleties of the ice forest we were now in. When looking up, the sun was out strong and the cloudless sky crisply blue, you could see the prisms of light the sun created with the ice. Soon it ws like the whole forest was strung with Christmas lights, it was so pronounced. A red twinkle here, and if you moved a green or deep yellow one would show. All the colors of the rainbow, winking at you. Before we had left the house, I reminded myself to dress in camouflage, as I was about to put on a light blue jacket and a bright orange scarf. Steve and I put on brown and green clothes. But as I looked at the dazzle of the winking lights I thought that the perfect camouflage would be my mothers full length, long sleeve white sequined gown that she made one winter long ago, when she was pregnant with me, as I recall being told. Only with that white sequiny gown you would be camouflaged.

All this looking up made me think that all this creaking and cracking ice must mean it's falling from way on high, and I said to Steve I was surprised we hadn't yet gotten chonked on the head. We continued and yes, there were many chunks of ice littering the trail---indeed they were falling!

We passed a flcok of tiny birds foraging on a rocky floor next to chipmunks making their homes in burrowed tree trunks. As I passed quite a few low hanging branches that sank over the trail, a few times a branch grabbed my hat with its icy fingers. It was so cold!

Once we got out of the forest it was blinding because you could see the sun reflectin off the icy pond. After a long hike our stomachs were growling for hot soup, and our feet longed for warm slippers.

Later on, after bowls of hot lima bean soup, the sun was shining so much that dripping started from every branch. I took some photos because it was so beautiful out, but then went back in to bake some bread. As I measured the flour I noticed an ominous black cloud coming from the West. Within minutes we were in the midst of a snow squall that hit us with such force that the backyard was white within minutes. I noticed that the bird feeder was filled with all the little birds, the finches, swallows, juncoes and chickadees, seemingly unaware of the fierce winds and snow blowing them about. Go home! I thought, It's a bad storm! But they didn't leave. Then I thought: maybe they know something I don't. Sure enough, in about fifteen minutes the sun was breaking and the storm passed over entirely.

The sun was out again, bright and sparkling as ever.