Everything is dipped in ice right now, encased, immobile. The sky seems to shrink closer to the earth, sounds become echoing whispers. Here is the little bluestem which, just a month ago, moved easily in the soft breeze. Now it remains motionless:
Here is the stalwart rose bloom I had noted in my previous post:
Encrusted ice appears around its leaves, its stems. The world is a silent sheath of liquid resin.
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