It’s starting to feel like the end times around here. The heart of our downtown area is closed off because the weight of the snow caused a building to collapse. I went to a grocery store yesterday, and it was closed — because of structural damage, I assume. So I went to another grocery store, and couldn’t get into the parking lot. And today…another blizzard. The path I have shoveled so many times is disappearing yet again.
Here are the icicles on my house. I’d go knock ’em down, but the snow is too deep for me to get to them.
. . . which reminds me of Robert Frost’s poem (first published in 1920) about the end times. (Today, I’m betting on ice.)
Some say the world will end in fire,Some say in ice.From what I’ve tasted of desireI hold with those who favor fire.But if it had to perish twice,I think I know enough of hateTo say that for destruction iceIs also greatAnd would suffice.