In the middle of the coldest patch of the winter, mab described the ten-foot icicle dangling from the roof across the street from her desk window in Moscow.  Almost ready to crash to the pavement, needing only the warmth of the spring sun to loosen its grip, it was surely an accident waiting to happen–at least in my mind.  Well now we can see it; mab has kindly supplied pictures.

1. The nice Tadjik guy shoveling snow and ice off that building’s roof:

2. Did I hit you?

I had imagined a bigger ten-foot icicle, something more like this (artist’s impression):

However, lower down on the building the icicles are impressive:

The ones one the middle could really do damage.  They appear quite difficult to reach:

Now I see why she was talking about a man rapelling down the side of the building.  If anyone had asked me, I would have said that building was on the Upper-East side of Manhattan, somewhere around 80th Street and Fifth, or East-End Avenue.  It says “1953” in the brickwork, the year I was born and Stalin died.  Who knew Stalin was building pre-war quality New York apartment buildings about the same time that New York developers were going over to austere white-brick boxes with eight-foot ceilings?