We had an ice storm last night. Not the horrible, branch snapping, power line killing kind, but the drive careful and you'll be fine type of thing.

I just got back from a walk across campus doing some service calls. I had to stop and look around. I was compelled to do it. The sun is shining brightly now and the ice on the trees is beautiful; each branch a myriad of colors as the sun shines through the ice.

I found a dry bench and sat for a few minutes. I watched. I listened to the sound of the water as is dropped off the ends of the branches. Now and then, a small piece of ice would break loose and dance through the branches, singing a little song as it struck them, only to finally find it's demise on the ground where it shattered into tiny pieces. Pieces that, refusing to die, reflected the sun yet again to a rainbow of colors.

As I sat and watched the sun's warmth, I knew it was only a matter of time before the beauty before me disappeared. But I was glad to be alive!