The Little Review (littlereview) wrote,
The Little Review
littlereview

Winter Afternoon


The icicles were spectacular.


The dam was frozen over in places and had been dredged by a giant crane that smashed the ice and pulled out tree branches and big plates of ice.


Great Falls ornamented with ice and snow.


Half of this waterfall is flowing; the other half is a bubbly block of ice.


There were fangs of ice overhanging most of the narrower channels of the falls, and piles of snow in places left over from the night before last.


The non-migratory ducks did not appear to mind the weather, as they were busily eating something off the bottom of the part of the canal that had not frozen and we saw more of their butts than their heads, which amused the boys to no end.


We walked across the C&O Canal from the towpath, something I have never done in all the years I have lived in Potomac. People were playing hockey. The ice appeared to be at least six inches thick but was probably more for the park to have roped off sections for public skating, something that I gather only happens when the temperature has been in the 20s for several consecutive days.


My in-laws were supposed to come down, pick the kids up and take them back with them for the night (there's no school tomorrow, some teacher's meeting), but due to the threat of snow, we postponed that. So from Great Falls, we went to the co-op in search of Tunisian almonds and bulk Chinese snack mix, then to two different stores looking for a DVD that my younger son wanted to buy with the remainder of his Chanukah money, which neither one had. T'was a relatively peaceful afternoon.

PSA for mrkinch! *thwaps you with pillow* Let me assure you that even having 250 people on your Flist does not make you feel like you really have friends on a bad day. It does not, however, mean that you don't have them.
Subscribe

  • Poem for Wednesday and Great Falls Cardinals

    The Bird Her Punctual Music Brings By Emily Dickinson The Bird her punctual music brings And lays it in its place— Its place is in the Human…

  • Poem for Tuesday and Carderock

    A wounded Deer – leaps highest – By Emily Dickinson A wounded Deer – leaps highest – I've heard the Hunter tell – 'Tis but the ecstasy of death…

  • Poem for Monday and Great Falls Sunday

    The Daisy Follows Soft The Sun By Emily Dickinson The Daisy follows soft the Sun— And when his golden walk is done— Sits shyly at his feet—…

  • Post a new comment

    Error

    Anonymous comments are disabled in this journal

    default userpic

    Your IP address will be recorded 

  • 0 comments