Winter hit hard in southern Indiana 10 days ago with that most horrifying of weather combinations: first rain – then snow – then freezing rain – followed by more snow and then a deep freeze.

Although the snowfall was gorgeous, cozy, and long-awaited, the high winds and power loss were no fun.

At the same time, Los Angeles was ablaze, so there was no complaining from us. (If you’ve been looking to make a donation, here’s a suggestion.) We hunkered down.

As Farmer Gary and I talked about our childhood winters in Indiana and Massachusetts, I fondly remembered Mom calling us from our beds to see Jack Frost’s artistry on our window panes. Gary’s memories were more practical; there were eggs to gather, cows to milk, and inch-thick ice to chip off from the inside their windows.

A quick search through Mom’s poetry brought forward this piece, which I’m guessing is from her high-school days in the mid-1940s. A carefully typewritten descriptive essay:

Little did she dream that someday her only daughter would live on a farm.

Here’s the essay:

Country Scene in Winter

Frost formed on slim boughs and thick trunks of young saplings and maple syrup flowed freely. Along river banks autumn blossoms had closed their eyes to cuddle beneath beds of branches to sleep. The air was cool and crisp even though the sun was radiant. Icicles clung to barren trees and Jack Frost painted castles and snow scenes on sparkling window panes. Frozen corn-stalks stood like silent sentries by lonely roadsides and in the meadows. Beyond, a wintry snowman with a cheery smile, peeked through the whitened fence posts of a farmer’s field nearby.

~ Joan Cassidy, circa 1946 (age 16)

The next morning we awoke to see that Jack Frost didn’t bother with our windows. He was too busy spreading hoarfrost throughout the woods. It looked like blown glass!

And what exactly is hoarfrost, you ask?

According to the UK’s Woodland Trust, hoarfrost is a feathery frost that forms as a result of specific climatic conditions.

The name hoarfrost comes from the old English word for old hair. Grey hair, basically. An old man’s beard.

It only lasted a few days, but the hoarfrost brought stunning beauty to the start of this frigid January.

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“Country Scene in Winter” © 1946 by Joan Cassidy. All rights reserved.

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