Fresh Paint
Thursday, December 23, 2004
A Tease
If you (or I, at any rate) thought the ice from yesterday at the edge of the lake was good, you will be blown away (as I nearly was just now) by the rapidly growing ice packs being built before my very eyes.

It has at least quadrupled in size since yesterday. I can barely see the water from where I stand, and the waves smashing against it throw a sandy gray-ochre plume at least 8 feet in the air before settling down to coat the pack further.

Four large ridges, roughly wave and/or breast shaped, have formed. I am reminded of when as a child I pretended to herd sheep (I was strange) and built a landscape on a shaggy pale blue bath rug with tissue stuffed into my well-endowed mother's bras, and layers of socks. You modern children will not comprehend how we did all this without instructions and age-appropriate guidance, but we did. The sheep were in actuality marbles, the kind that children can't play with any more because they might put them in their mouths and choke on them instead of pretending that they're sheep.

Anyway, I was reminded of my sheep farm when looking out at the ice covering the beach. And in the distance icebergs were forming.

Back later with an attempt at rendering this.

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