“Heaven is under our feet
as well as over our heads.”
Henry David Thoreau
The ice on Puntilla Lake is now 2 inches thick. That’s enough to walk on it, I am told. Yesterday the lake made noises like a herd of whales.
“Whoooop, whoop, whoooouuuup…”
Not sure what that was. The water underneath loosing contact with the ice? The ice settling, cracking?
Today I walk on the ice. The windy conditions over the last few days have blown off the snow. I walk on the bare ice, which is gray and opaque in most places. Then, for no reason there are a few clear spots, where i can see the bottom of the lake, eerie. It feels like walking on that glass balcony over the Grand Canyon. Near those clear spots I can’t help but wonder if the ice is strong enough to support my weight. Silly thought, it is.
Small air bubbles have been trapped in the ice and float like little universes in it. That’s what I saw today, under my feet.