Ice Storm (Poetry (not mine) and Photos (mine))

This is the scene I woke up to this morning:

That's not an Instagram filter--I shot the scene through a beveled-glass windowpane. If you remember this view from previous pictures, you may notice that the climbing rose has taken a bow, along with the limbs of the sweetgum tree.

Whenever there's an ice storm, I am reminded of this passage from "Sir Gawain and the Green Knight":

It's better in the Middle English, but here's my plain translation, starting with line 726:

For men aggrieved him not so much that winter was not worse, 

When the cold, clear water from the clouds was shed,

And froze ere it might fall to the fallow earth;

Near slain by the sleet, he slept in his armor

More nights than enough on the bare rocks,

There where, clattering from the crest, the cold stream ran,

And hung high over his head in hard icicles.

The final line is really what I remember, because it sounds so wonderful, in alliterated Middle English:

"And henged hegh ouer his hede in hard iisse-ikkles."

I'd enjoy staying in all weekend, but the pups need to potty. They were fine to do their tinkles on the snow, but wouldn't do number twos until I jack-hammered the ice from the lawn with a spade (not pictured).

ice

Happy Snow Day!

UPDATE: Here are a few more pictures:

The outer leaves of the sweetgum in the front yard (which bore the brunt of the wind and freezing rain) were as hard and slick as blown-glass sculpture:

Though somehow the center of the tree remained as fresh and green as summer: 

The Holly:

...and The Ivy:

And the Pear Tree: