Ice, and Snow, and Freaky Lights -- Oh No!

A strange and wonderful day. First, I worked too late last night, and slept too little, as a consequence. In fact, as I write this, I realize that I am almost too tired to write my thoughts and reflections on this day. But alas, that would not be true.

Tonight, it snowed in Banner Elk and Spruce Pine and pretty much everywhere, but I am limited in my exposure since it started after Bill Burleson's funeral today (more about that later this weekend). I have to say, it was fun to be in a place where the sudden deterioration of the weather justified the reaction of folks on the road. It was icy, and people were driving stupid, but damn, it was fun to actually have the tires move around and not have complete control. Respectful driving... a new experience for me! Pretty funny, huh?

I am providing three pics tonight because I could not decide which I preferred. The first is of icicles which were on the side of the Lees-McRae College gymnasium. They were coming off the side of the building and I jumped through a foot of snow to get this one. I loved how it had curved from the wind, and the melting patterns, as if it were molded around an invisible or black pole. Nature's amazing way of having so many variables create something rare, and more beautiful when formed beside a 100 cousins who are all stalactites.

This pic was from this bar in Banner Elk called Zuzda. I met an friend from my entire life growing up to share life stories and memories, and how screwed up life is. Cammy's mom owned the grocery store in the middle of town and she and I were classmates for 10+ years. But it was fun to talk about ex's, new loves, children, people we grew up with and photography.

In the corner of the place (btw, there was a great band of five guys playing who were fun), was this funky light. Once captures, I could not get away from how cool the total effect of the light, the shadows, and the diffusion of reflections caught everything around it. A funky look...

Finally tonight, this stacked snow on stone was a lot of fun. First, the way that the snow fell (and stayed) on the stone was pretty amazing to me. Then the inconsistent variations of the gaps, which ran along the edge of the cube.. but yet also forming a beautiful, natural but not perfect look. Reminds me of a recent article in The New Yorker about a building in Chicago, its architect and how the design both improved wind resistance and created a beautiful, innovative design within a field where ugly boxes dominate.

Tonight, when driving home, and seeing the snow along the side of the road, I was struck by how much difference there is among the scenes I experience here. It almost all evolves around the 2.5 miles of Hickory Nut Gap Road, and color.

This summer for instance, I walked home from Banner Elk on a warm (but not hot) day. It was so enjoyable how on that day, the wind and the weather did not make me either hot or cold, but instead enhanced the green world. Meanwhile winter is about two colors to me -- always -- in Banner Elk: white and brown. The snow covered everything this evening, which is such an amazing analogy of life -- God gives us something beautiful that covers up what is otherwise dead, gone or in hibernation... Because when the snow is gone, winter is all about brown. No leaves, no grass, no life, and no light to bring back joy and hope. Fall is about so many colors that you get overwhelmed, which not a bad thing. Nature's preparation for sleep gives us rich auburns, shocks of yellow and orange while green fades away into the soil for another season's growth.

While that was too flowery, my main point is this: what I see and how I see it differ so much. The curves are the same, the buildings rarely change -- but the flavor of the experience is so fluid. It changes by the time of day, the time of year and the mood of my heart or my companions -- kids or being alone. It highlights how much the ambiance of a scene is set as much as how it appears as what is being said. And I loved how that struck me tonight driving home from having a beer with a long-long friend.