Monday, February 22, 2010

My Life Behind Bars (Or, Observing Lingering Accumulation)


The many snow storms of late have left the eaves of our roof laden with icicles. They have formed many times this winter, creating gleaming crystals to catch the sun, while leaving evidence of the heat loss of our 1920’s windows.

One particular icicle has grown so long that it connects the first and second story eaves, towering ominously over the rear entrance to the first story apartment. The first snow left the corner icicle no different than its counterparts, but the second and third and fourth storms left it to accumulate with each day the temperature temporarily rose above 32 degrees, eventually leaving us with a large ice sculpture.

Yesterday I watched (and offered advice) as Curtis tried to dislodge the monstrosity with a snow shovel. It offered little response, and certainly didn’t budge, much to our chagrin.

It has been in the 40’s all weekend. With every day of gradual melt the icicle (if you can even call it that) becomes more unstable, and I fear that one day it will fall on our neighbor downstairs, who might exit to find it falling too quickly to avoid (this is—without a doubt—the worst case scenario, but still one I have fearfully imagined).


Last week I attempted to patch a relationship that has been at odds for a long time. Years ago there was a conflict of opinion about the well-being of a person, and I fell on one side of the argument, while she fell on the other. When the person passed away, we went our different directions. Despite the long history of our relationship, it was ended.

Years later, I feel like I am chipping at a large icicle to restore this relationship. Its harsh end has seemed to color all that came before, and despite my attempts to make peace I have not (yet) been met with a positive response.


Every day I examine the icy growth as I walk out to my car, and then again as I return from whatever task or occasion. And every day I remind myself that it will fall, one way or another, sooner or later; spring will come and the threat will (literally) melt and evaporate. Yet even with this assurance, I can’t help but admonish myself for not dealing with it sooner: knocking it down before it became such an un-opposable force.

Some things are much clearer in hindsight. And sometimes you have to accept there may not have been much you could have done about it anyway.

*Note: Above icicle monstrosity has grown even more since the picture was taken a week ago.

1 comment:

  1. great post, Ash. I love the connection you made - I can totally relate!