A terrible ice storm hit Tennessee, blanketing everything with frost, uprooting trees, downing power lines. Many of us went without power for days. Roads became ice skating rinks with cars and people ill-equipped to glide with ease. Over 20 people died as a result of auto accidents and hypothermia while trapped in the unbearable cold…in some places -10. Temperatures not experienced before, not even close. House pipes froze, heaters fizzled, yet the flu epidemic was alive and well. Not a good combination for anybody. Even the deer and other wildlife ventured beyond their usual edge-of-woods curiosity to the backdoor as if asking, “Help us out…?” I think many would agree that it’s been a treacherous period here in Tennessee where I live, a part of the nation declared a level III State of Emergency. Schools had closed for an entire week (and then some). Nonetheless, each time I peered out the window, smacking my arms for the heat of friction, frozen puffs of breath escaping my mouth, I’d gasp at the splendor outside. I’d never seen anything so spectacular. The ice-covered trees sparkled like an endless ballroom of crystal. And although the gusts of wind had proved dangerous, it made the branches and limbs glimmer and wink even more. Everything else seemed frozen in time. The scene possessed greater magic than any epic fantasy novel. Glorious in beauty, how can something so hazardous and destructive be also thrilling and inimitably divine?