Project 365 day 44: Icicles

We have a long row of enormous icicles outside our front door. They come in a variety of shapes: twisted, fluted, thick and sculptural, wavy, with a little kink at the end... From inside the house they are backlit, and the tiny bubbles in the ice are clearly visible. This morning, with bright sun on the conifer hedge behind, they looked bizzarely yellow. 

I haven't been out today. The sparkly novelty of this unaccustomed Kent snow is wearing off, and I'm remembering how weary I became of it during our decades in Durham, when I had to drive to work on treacherously icy roads and worry about whether J's school/college taxi would arrive at all or whether I would again be phoning round carers trying to find emergency cover. It's near impossible to push her wheelchair in snow, and those long, icy winters a decade ago, when the compacted snow on our street barely melted from November to March, were a significant factor in our decision to move south. 

I barely needed to step outside to photograph the icicles - I didn't even have to put my shoes on. When I treated myself to new lockdown slippers for my birthday last May, I didn't realise I would be wearing them for eighteen hours a day, every day, all year.