Maybe It Wasn't the Old Gutters

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Last winter, I wrote a post -- Art from the Gutters -- where I credited our old, poorly draining gutters for the beautiful ice-encased grasses. Well, the gutters have been replaced, but the ice sculptures remain. For the past week, snow has been slowly melting off our southern roof and forming a large icicle from the gutter outside our bedroom window.

The drips from its end have covered the Miscanthus below in a thick, glimmering and frozen piece of natural art. In some places, a single blade of grass is fossilized in an inch of ice. Instead of being crushed by the weight of the ice, the grass is now held up by its frigid architecture.

Tomorrow should bring temperatures that will render our grass and ice sculpture little more than a puddle, but today it shone splendidly in the early morning sunshine.

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