The day, a compunctious Sunday after a week of blizzards, had been part jewel, part mud. In the midst of my usual afternoon stroll through the small hilly town attached to the girls' college where I taught French literature, I had stopped to watch a family of brilliant icicles drip-dripping from the eaves of a frame house. So clear-cut were their pointed shadows on the white boards behind them that I was sure the shadows of the falling drops should be visible too. But they were not. {"The Vane Sisters"}
The narrative captures a reflective moment on a Sunday, following a week marked by intense blizzards. Amid the contrasting beauty and messiness of the day, the author takes a leisurely stroll through the hilly town where they teach French literature, observing the serene yet cold winter landscape. The striking image of icicles hanging from a house draws the narrator's attention, prompting a moment of introspection about the interplay of light and shadow in the winter scenery.
As the narrator contemplates the falling water drops from the icicles, they notice the absence of their shadows on the ground, despite the clear definitions of the icicles themselves. This detail signifies a missed connection between the tangible and intangible aspects of nature, adding to the day's bittersweet quality. The scene encapsulates the beauty of winter while hinting at a deeper layer of reflection on perception and reality.