It's silly, but I can't help myself.
I walked down to the convenience store to buy a half gallon of milk.
Most of the ice that had formed during Friday's storm had melted.
All that was left existed in the shadows of the bushes that
sheltered it from the sun. In fact, the ice was the shadow, taking on
the shape of the dormant shrubs that hovered over the
delicate crystals of icy lace.