When the unusually cold weather approaching our area last month was first mentioned, it didn’t initially seem alarming.

But when the forecasters kept going lower and lower on their predictions for freezing temperatures, it all started feeling unreal. To make matters worse, we were told that this “weather emergency” would more than likely last a week or so. I had to hustle in my preparations.

After making sure that our pantry was well stocked, I started insulating exposed pipes and faucets. I then put some pieces of plywood around the bottom of the house as a form of “skirting” to block the wind. And when I ran out of wood in two final sections I used plastic garbage bags fastened to the siding by heavy-duty tape as well as chunks of bricks to anchor them to the ground.

Incidentally, it was ironic that just six or seven months earlier we were all expecting an assault by major hurricanes. And now, on the opposite end of the weather scale, the “Big Freeze,” as I called it, was on its way about to engulf most of the country like some immense Frigidaire. Also adding to the strangeness of this situation was that instead of having to possibly evacuate for safety’s sake, most of us would more than likely hunker down at home keeping as warm as possible with coats, blankets, and plenty of hot chocolate … or even something stronger.

Now the only thing left to do was await its arrival.

A couple of days before the temperature plunged, I noticed that our pet cat began acting restlessly, moving about from place to place inside the house. Preferring the outdoors, he now only wanted to stay cozy near a warm spot. And during the coldest period ahead, he never even ventured near the door.

During the early hours of the first day as the ice storm hit, I heard the sounds of freezing rain striking the metal roof. As the noise increased it was soon joined by intermittent thunder. This was just an introduction to what nature had in store.

The cadence of the icy precipitation continued for quite a while until it was accompanied by an odd, more ominous commotion that I had very rarely heard before. The agony of cracking limbs punctuated the morning as the worst of winter, like some irritated colossus, plopped down over the neighborhood. Near and far, this clatter of distressed and overburdened trees proclaimed winter’s might.

Much later that afternoon, as I walked through the yard, the ground crunched like broken panes of thin glass. When I got to the sidewalk and looked around, a panorama painted exclusively in white greeted me. Frozen strips and drops of ice covered almost everything in sight. Even the vegetation drooped as if to pay homage to nature’s creativity. And icicles, like unfinished strands of pearls, hung from the edges of the roof.

But this beauty was merely a mask for the devastation the storm was causing in other places.

My admiration for the picture before me quickly faded when I recalled that the temperatures elsewhere were in the single digits. Or of the lack of water, the power shortages, and that people were freezing to death in their own homes. They were sobering thoughts and all I wanted was for it all to end.

I took one last look and went back inside where my better half had just prepared some hot chocolate. That little cup of warmth meant more to me that day … than anything else.

O.J. GONZALEZ is a native and resident of Jeanerette. He graduated from USL in printmaking and photography and his photographs have appeared in publications in Louisiana, Alaska, Canada, New Zealand and England.