Icing from the Inside

It started with sand being thrown against the window, and soon grew to a steady wave of small pebbles tatooing on the roof. In my dream, I was standing on a beach looking at the clear blue waters of Northumberland Strait and the bridge to Prince Edward Island. Peaceful, but slightly disoriented. As I woke,  that vision faded, and was replaced by this one.

When Nature takes your world, and gives it a shake and a polish, you must pay attention.

And so I did.

Cocooned by the soft glow of morning,  and unable to see beyond, I was forced to look within.

Nature's artistry leaves me breathless. A haunting golden moment that rises with the sun and lingers just long enough to remind us that  we can only see this magic when the paint brush is heavily laden.

A magnified moment, frozen in time and soon to melt away.

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http://skyley.blogspot.com/

Punk. Punky.Punkiest.

And then one night, I looked out the window and couldn't believe my eyes. 

A big old pink moon was rising, bringing with it a warm southern wind

that bid farewell to winter.

I kept watch and kept wondering. Within an hour, it had morphed into a brilliant white light, hanging high over the river.

Songs have been written about moons like this. "It's only a paper moon, hanging over a cardboard sea" and "when the moon hits your eyes like a big pizza pie that's amore" came to mind while I was watching.

Then I looked downwards, and saw what was finally happening at 500 feet above sea level. The ice was moving. Out of the bay. Into the air. Under the surface. It was alive and shifting.

And less than twelve hours later, it was no longer a skating rink, it was pure punk. As in the ice is punky. It's dangerous, soft, spongy, not to be trusted. Don't you dare go near it ice!

Unless of course you're a duck, with feathers for brains pretty much...

You can see the different densities of the ice. In this case, the darker the colour, the more water laden, the more dangerous and the more punky it is. We learn to stay clear of all things punkish...until one day, we think about the meaning of punk again...

This cute little  girl can come and look, but no way is she allowed  within a mile of anything as  punky as that ice!

 

Morning is Breaking

While I may be slightly winter weary, I must admit that daybreak on the icy river stops me cold.

I breathe the gathering light and hold it within.

The ice is beginning to move, pushing back against the beach, staking its claim along the frozen ridges.

It won't win. Spring will come. Water will flow.

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My Blood Runs Cold

The water belongs to the Ottawa River. The ice is 2 feet thick.

It's cool place to hang about.

Very, very cool.

He's waiting and watching.

Someone's going to jump.

The water temperature hovers at freezing, and hypothermia begins almost immediately.

Outer extremities being to tingle as soon as they hit the water. Not just the fingers and toes either.

This is not a leisurely swim. This is a Polar Bear Dip.

34 wild and crazy Canadians enjoyed the frigid waters last Saturday in Pembroke

...and the hot tub after the jump.

For their efforts, they received a free lunch. Chile of course.

And the Diabetes Association received over $6000 that the jumpers raised through pledges.

It was awesome!