I awoke this morning to this view from my window:
An ice sheet covered all of the panes.
On Thursday morning, before I left from my holiday stay, I took this picture:
When I was quite small and we lived in Minneapolis, my granny came to visit one winter and told me about a very bad little boy who was put in an icicle as punishment for his very bad behavior. If I were bad, she said, she might have to put ME in an icicle. I pondered that for a while. What would the world look like from the inside of an icicle? I think that pondering bought my granny a minute or two of silence.
Although only two or three years old, I didn't really believe that my granny would put me in an icicle. Had we had icicles this big, however, I think I might have been seriously frightened.