Ice Wednesday 2023

We were forewarned—sort of. No one, not even Consumer’s Energy, the Meridian Township streets and san, the befuddled weatherperson. No one could predict how much ice or snow or wintry mix. They used a combination of all three when describing the possibilities.

I was off work babysitting. I took Jack out in the morning to a park. My phone said 30 degrees, I paid little attention to the fine print (feels like 20). We were okay for the first 20 minutes, but on the walk home he cried. His little hands were cold. When we got home he crawled over me on the couch looking for pockets of warmth. Poor fella. But, outside I could hear pellets hitting the roof and windows.

The ice accumulated on the back decks. The wood was like an ice skating rink. I felt like a tight rope walker seeking balance on a flat surface. My daughter came home from work early. We watched a movie with mugs of hot tea. There was no more going outside.

Even before going to bed my boss texted we’d be closed. Whew! I wouldn’t have to worry about how to get there on top of ice. I slept in snuggly coziness, able to hear the wind rocking the tree boughs outside. I wondered if the trees would still be standing when I woke up.

Yes. They were there in misty ice-laden air. A lacy filigree draped over everything—including overhead wires. It’s weird: the temps are above freezing yet there is ice everywhere. Humidity lends a feel of dampness and viscosity to the atmosphere. There is a hush over the frozen world.

 

Then I remembered I had a set of crampons left to me by traveling couchsurfers a number of years ago. I stretched them over my boots and walked to the local supermarket. The big box store felt like a hometown general store everyone was standing around out numbering customers and feeling like heroes for making it in to work. I saw someone on cross skies glide in. We were a small community of the bravehearted.

So it’s a snow day/ice day for many of us here in the Midwest, in central Michigan.