Blind, bleak, black ice

We were warned by weather reports late yesterday that today would begin with frost pockets and patches of deadly black ice. The most frighteningly, chilling of all ice it forms on roads and pavements and is completely invisible. None of us know that we have strayed onto it until it is too late – like some unseen monster it lies in wait to see how many it can claim – so slippery that vehicles can be flipped over when they skim on its surface. Needless to say people fair equally as badly.

I awoke this morning and peered out into the dark morning. It was still very dark but from what was visible of the sky it was overcast, grey with a slight mist … and … it was very, very cold.

I went to the back door to let the cat out – she sniffed briefly and sucked in the icy blast then turned around and jumped up onto the small kitchen step stool looking at me. I switched the gas on and clicked the button which lit the stove to boil the kettle for a cup of tea and I could feel her eyes burning into my back. It was time for her breakfast – she knew how to get the message across and was prepared to plait her legs and wait for it to warm up a bit before going outside to relieve herself. Cats are very stubborn and mine is no exception.

Eventually she went outside and was back before the hand of the clock reached seven. She managed to flick around my legs and I could feel the cold that had attached itself to her coat. Then she softly slinked off into the living room. I followed on with my steaming tea and she presented her tummy with its fur as soft as down, to me …