…”and what will the birdies do then, the poor things…” an old camp song goes through my mind… be sure to drag out loooong. Yesterday with everything covered in ice, they foraged at the feeders, sought shelter under the shrubbery or just sat on ice covered branches thinking bird thoughts.
We were grateful to have shelter, cold sandwiches and a warm fire.
Cold, hard beauty could be found.
Late in the afternoon, the temperature rose above freezing, the sun came out, and it rained a thick layer of “ice cubes”. 
Melt will come and the work will begin to clean up all the cold, hard sad.
The birds were happy this was not the branch that holds their feeder; we are happy it did not fall on the house itself although it certainly woke us up when it hit.
That mound of icy greenery totally hides the shed. From every window and door we see piles of winter storm prunings to be gathered up.
The pine tree that welcomed us home all these years and weathered many a hurricane and winter storm has fallen. I shall miss this old friend.
