‘Who were the first to cry Nowell?
Animals all, as it befell,
In the stable where they did dwell!
Joy shall be theirs in the morning!’
–Kenneth Grahame, Wind in the Willows, 1908
Karim and I wish you a joyous Christmas and the best year ever in 2009.
Thirty years ago, as a resident of Needham, I survived the Blizzard of ’78 and now I can say that I lived through the Ice Storm of ’08. In its impact on me personally, this recent experience of winter’s power was eerily reminiscent of that earlier event. More memorable than the scenes of destruction, however, are the images I retain of the transformed landscape’s breath-taking beauty.
Shrubbery branches on Walnut Street are coated with ice.
Summer’s green is still visible through the ice.
Looking west from behind the Post Office, I see trees all in white.
The ice is almost a quarter-inch thick.
Ice covers vegetation on the abandoned Aztec property on School Street.
Red berries are a vivid contrast to the ice-covered twigs.
I’m traveling south on Route 68 heading toward Rutland.
The bright sunshine turns the ice into sparkling crystals.
