Growing up out in “the sticks,” we did not have running water. My grandfather had a windmill that pumped water into a tank providing a reasonable facsimile of running water. I am told that he rigged a spray nozzle under the water tank so he could take his daily bath. Early each morning he would go out for a shower under the tank. The story is that one freezing morning, he had to take a fat pine torch to melt the ice clogging the fixture. Then he he took his daily shower, had breakfast, and went to open his store; that’s a story for another time.
This week, while watching the Kansas Chief’s (successful) play-off game–in record-breaking low temperatures—my attention was fixed on Andy Reid, their coach. Although there were huge heaters all around, Reid plied the sidelines—with rapt attention to every move and heartbeat of his team—while icicles formed on his mustache! It was interesting that the TV cameras switched often to Reid’s icicle-swathed mustache. He was undisturbed—Icicles or not, he focused on his team.
Not only does the Brrrrr of icicles bring out the brave, the Burrrrr also brings out beauty. A friend recently posted a picture online of an icicle clinging tenaciously to the roof, capturing a morning sun ray. When a sun-ray glistens on an icicle it often casts a prism of color. It’s sparkle is spectacular. Every icicle is unique and invites a glance of joy, maybe even launching a nostalgic trip down a trail of happy memories.
Even when icicles cause water pipes to freeze, not all is bad. I remember times of deep freezes. Frozen water plays havoc with cooking. My parents would gather us around the fireplace, improvising meals over the open fire. We toasted sandwiches using a wire popcorn basket, and made hot chocolate in the tin coffee pot. Bacon or ham sizzled on a cast-iron skillet—a sensory ambush pervading the room from the fireplace. As tough as those days were, they yield a wealth of memories.
When on cold days icicles form, warm rays of the sun make our spirits sparkle. I am not a North Pole kind of guy, but when winter’s freezing hits, spectacular scenes pop up; gutters, waterfalls, and sprinkler systems shout arrays of glistening icicles striking a note of joy in my heart. What a spark of joyful surprise when in the midst cold, dark, winter, sunlight pierces the gloom; an icicle sprays a rainbow of color cheeing the heart. It must be something of what Noah’s family experienced, emerging from the Ark and seeing the rainbow; it is a sparkle of hope and new life promised by God as it spreads like the first clear sunrise of spring.
© Copyright Willis H. Moore Jauary 9, 2024
Thank you, Willis, for the reminder that icicles reflect light in a prism of colors. Good timing, in this very frigid week! When I was a little girl in the North GA mountains, my mother cooked with a wood stove, so we would have hot, buttered cornbread as we huddled around the one pot bellied stove in the living room,, intended to heat the whole house. I wonder now, with gas or electric appliances, how she knew just how hot to get the oven. The cornbread was perfect and delicious every time! I was in third grade when my mother got her first electric stove.
I enjoyed your story. Bet you have had icicles this week. It has been chilly in MB. L48. H62. We have not turned the heat on.
Stay safe and stay warm my friend.
Elaine