January of 2007 brought a rare ice storm to Austin, Texas. A typical winter might have one day of light snow that melts the same day. It is rare for snow to stay on the ground for an entire day.
E going for a walk with me in a puffy jacket and mittens, seeing snow for the first time — though it’s only a light dusting.
E sits down on the sidewalk in the light dusting of snow.
Walking down the snow-dusted street. It was perhaps during this walk that E stopped near a drainage opening under the sidewalk — the kind where the road slopes away under the sidewalk, revealing an opening into some kind of drainage canal — crouched down and called: “Cat! Cat!” I realized that she was remembering seeing a cat go into a similar drainage canal on one of our previous walks. Naturally, no cat answered her call. So she turned to me and said: “Cat is sleeping.”
My car (front), shrink-wrapped in solid 1-centimeter thick film of ice, and sprouting mustaches of icicles.
Here I’m holding a giant sheet of ice that I peeled from my car
The side mirror of my car, covered in thick ice, with a cap of ice and a long mustache of icicles dripping off of it
Icicles on a tree