Saturday, March 23, 2013
The Iceman Cometh
Our neighbor, who's lived here his whole life, says it's a phenomenon that's never happened before in all his years and he's had 60 of them. An inch-and-a-half of rain fell on a frozen river a week ago, melting things apace--well, not apace but so swiftly the flow got profuse for a while and in the process broke up mammoth chunks of frozen river, carrying them along until it belched them up on the banks, huge chunks, some of them a ton more more, icebergs.
I swear, last summer, you could have walked across the Floyd and not wet a knee. But all of a sudden the river is one grand, icy mess, wearing a huge dirty collar of ice chunks and all kinds of refuse, even an tractor-tube from who knows where.
The Floyd River isn't what anyone would call sweet right now, but if it dresses up like a hobo only once-in-fifty-years you gotta take in the show.
Strange. Remarkable. Amazing, really. Weird, even goofy. Stunning, in its own odd way.
The iceman cometh.
Posted by J. C. Schaap at 10:37 AM