Ice Storm

Eighteen years ago in January 2005, when I was almost nineteen years of age and living in west central Ohio with my parents and sister, a rare severe ice storm coated tree branches and other outdoor surfaces with one inch of ice accumulation, resulting in catastrophic damage and leaving us without electrical power or heat for 48 hours. The bizarre combination of spectacular beauty and terrible destruction inspired me to write the poem below, which was finally completed more than a year afterward and which offers an accurate description of the event. In subsequent months and years, I submitted it to various print and online publications, both Catholic and secular, but it has never been accepted for publication, perhaps due to its length (96 lines), or its changes of meter and lack of consistent rhyme. The style was greatly influenced by the epic classical poetry I studied in high school. Mild ice storms are a frequent occurrence this time of year in the mountains of western Virginia, where I have now lived for fourteen-plus years, and their beauty can be enjoyed without fear of danger except for occasional slippery road conditions. Please let me know what you think of this poem.

Ice Storm
by Justin Soutar
June 27, 2006

All through the dreary winter afternoon
A soft rain hammers steadily down.
A welcome respite from the piles of snow
Covering the ground some days ago.
Yet, we know this pleasant interlude
Will soon turn to snowy solitude;
And the clear drops of midwinter rain
Will yield to glistening powder again.
But suddenly—
A warning comes,
A dreadful chill
Pierces the wet air.
Raindrops clinging
To ground and branch.
Puddles turn hard.
--Everywhere—
The dismal clouds
Let fall their burden,
To weigh heavily
On the darkening land.
An eerie stillness
Now foreboding,
Nature trapped
Beneath layer upon layer.
As night falls,
The tree limbs’ icy burden
Grows too heavy
To sustain any longer.
The silence of darkness
Is suddenly broken.
C-c-crack! Just like that
A nearby branch snaps and
Crashes to earth,
Flinging a million chips of ice
Like shattered crystal,
Then stillness again.
Far in the distance,
Another bough cracks,
To be answered by another,
More and more crashes,
Each piercing the dark, frozen silence,
Over and over,
Finally a chorus
Of forest lords
Erupts in all directions,
Bowing to the ice.
Giant appendages
Torn from their stalks
Like candy canes
Bit by a child.
All through the night
The dirge wails on.
All through the following dingy day,
And through subsequent gloomy evening, slowly,
The chorus fades in a long decrescendo
Back into frozen stillness.
The next gray dawn arrives:
What a strange, yet beautiful sight!
Trees and earth all wrapped in ice,
All creation shrouded in white.
A million arches, like Romanesque churches:
Intact limbs, having withstood the onslaught,
Curving down with their heavy load
To touch the ground, at rest.
How strange that the clear liquid,
Sustaining all life,
Has morphed into bringer
Of damage and death.
So glorious to behold,
Yet a burden to nature;
A feast for the eyes,
Yet harm to the forest.
A million glistening white branches
envelop the white-coated ground,
Lying as conquered warriors
Beneath the towering staffs.
Fatal white magnificence
Blankets the earth,
A billion crystal jewels
Scattered everywhere.
Once more, the gray clouds turn somber
As night drops over the scene.
The ground remains frozen silent
And perpetually all motionless,
In ever-patient solidarity
With the damaged natives of the woods.
Up on high, a few starry diamonds
Begin to peek through the hugging clouds.
At the swift touch of a whistling breeze,
All of the radically injured trees
In their ice encasings creak and groan,
Limbs heave so painfully to and fro,
Anxiously awaiting liberation
From their long stiff-frozen condition.
Waiting till dawn for the earth to warm
And deliverance from tribulation.

Copyright © 2006 Justin D. Soutar. All rights reserved.

Greetings from Snowy Virginia!

This past weekend we enjoyed our first good snowstorm of the season, which brought about 10 inches of snow.

A Tale of Two Seasons

Fall is now one of my favorite seasons. There is something magical about the cool dry weather, the gentle slanting sunshine, the deep blue sky, and the brilliant colors adorning the trees that invites contemplation in a way that the piercing overhead sun, stifling humidity, and solid green of summer simply cannot. It is true that summertime is generally considered the ultimate season for relaxation; it is certainly the time when travel and outdoor activities are at their peak, while many people are enjoying a well-deserved break from work and school activities. However, if I am not mistaken, oftentimes summer can degenerate from a healthy period of recreation and refreshment into a mirror of the rest of the frenetic working year; people try to cram all the sports, vacations, family picnics, scenic drives, gardening, summer programs, and garage sales they can in between weddings and holidays during the three months of warm weather, only to find themselves exhausted as they return to their regular work schedule. This reminds me with a chuckle of a quotation from columnist Russell Baker in Back to Basics: "Leisure pastime in this country has become so complicated that it is now hard work....We are not far from the time when a man after a hard weekend of leisure will go thankfully off to his job to unwind."

I personally find the autumn environment more conducive to relaxation than that of summer. As I gaze at the natural beauty of a perfect autumn day, I observe that nature is slowing down, and this invites me to slow down as well. As fall moves on and the sun gradually traces a lower arc across the sky, the golden orb seems to be descending graciously toward the earth and bathing the forests in some of its light. The striking sight of a tree blanketed in yellow leaves especially evokes this impression. Then as October melts into November, the leaves silently drop off the tree branches as though they are surrendering with resignation to the approach of winter. This encourages me to prepare for the freezing weather that will soon be upon us.

While growing up in the temperate, semi-arid climate of coastal California, I did not really know what seasons were. We never had snow where I lived, and a hard frost was rare. The local farmers benefited from a twelve-month growing season for many of their crops. Also there were few deciduous trees that could turn color in fall. When I first moved to Ohio at the age of sixteen, I was initially shocked by the Midwest weather, which seemed extreme: humid with highs in the 90s in summer, mountains of snow and slippery ice with temperatures reaching thirteen below zero in winter. I could mention also the dozens of yearly thunderstorms with their deadly lightning and resulting thunder banging the windows of the house, or the tornado watches that frequently accompanied these storms. Over time, however, I gradually became adjusted to the meteorological conditions of the Buckeye State, and I learned to appreciate the more sedate weather that spring and fall offered. After about five years of living in Ohio, I felt that the rhythm of the seasons had finally sunk into my bones. It has been an interesting experience to see what “real” weather is like outside of California.

Lately I've been enjoying the sight of fall leaves adorning the ground around the house and getting my outdoor Christmas lightstrings ready for the joyful season ahead. There is something about brown fallen leaves and Christmas lights that makes the two go well together. This mimics the blending of fall and winter weather patterns that typically marks the month of November.

I enjoy putting up Christmas lights on the house just as my father used to do every year as I was growing up. My enthusiasm for this annual hobby has not waned with my entry into adulthood. Like a Christmas tree and other decorations inside the home, outdoor lights add cheer to the celebration of Christ’s birth, and they can lift the spirits of other people passing by in the evening too. Moreover, while the heavy, energy-consuming C9 lights of my childhood had to be stapled to the eaves of the roof, you can do just about anything with the miniature lights, and the energy costs are much lower. (And now the latest and greatest are LED lights, which use even less energy.)

Another trait that fall and winter share is dark, starry night skies. This is partly due to clearer, colder air and partly to the fact that the brightest stars in the heavens are found in the winter sky. Just as I admire the awesome sight of a dark winter sky filled with countless glistening stars, I take delight in the picturesque scene of little red, orange, green, pink, blue and purple lights contrasting with the black darkness of a winter evening. They remind me of Christ, the true Light of our lives, Who came down from Heaven into this world to lead us out of spiritual darkness.