After the ice storm the trees were monstrous elderly hands, heavy bowing Buddha fingers. I expected power lines to fall thick from the poles like seawater anchor ropes. The birdbath was crusted over with ice and snow. The suet feeder swung upside-down, and the squirrels hung on with their long nails. My father didn't even try to shoo them away. The most depressing thing about all the snow is that I have only seen two snowmen this whole winter. And even then, only one had a scarf – blue striped, wrapped twice around its skinny neck. Where are all the kids?