Ice Art
Frozen awe

A couple of weeks ago I made a decision to walk outside every day. I will stop avoiding the cold weather —just bundle up and get out there!
I took a beautiful winter walk. I enjoyed the snow. The next day, the temperature was again below freezing and there was still some snow and ice. I walked.


Nope, those aren’t pictures of my winter walk this week. They are flashbacks. My mom was the photographer. I was about ten years old. We lived on Lake Huron in a sheltered channel. Our bay froze over completely each winter.
On the day of the photos, we cross-country skied about a mile from home to the open water of Lake Huron, which we called the big lake because it didn’t freeze completely. We explored the ice caves created by the frozen waves along the shoreline.
My other childhood ice experiences were many. We ice skated on our bay if it froze smooth, or on a man made ice rink made by dad. Each winter we built ice sculptures with colorful characters, tunnels, and slides for the ice carnival and we went ice fishing. Then, in my teen years, driving trucks on the frozen lake to have bonfires on the ice was also a blast.
Those icy moments hold great memories.
Now, back to the present, I have decided to give up my adult thoughts of ice: cold, slippery, dangerous, sometimes even hazardous. I am determined to set those ideas aside to see the cold weather as an adventure again, and enjoy it.
I walked through the park to the river. As I walked along the beach, I saw some branches with little tufts of sculpted ice. The wind had formed what looked like scutes (bony plates on a dinosaur’s back) along the length of the logs.

I needed a closer look.


The closer I got, the more intricate and interesting the ice formations were.




This was a moment for me. A moment of awe —each little sculpture wowing me a little bit more than the one before, leaving me almost out of breath. A moment of connecting past memories with the present. A moment of realizing how creative mother nature really is. A moment I could have easily missed.
Ice might not be your moment. It was mine. But, I can say, if Mother Nature reaches out her hand, stop and take notice of whatever she has to offer at that moment.

Thanks for reading! I hope everyone finds their moment. (And, more and more of them — check out what nature has in store!)
Thanks to Kamna Kirti for the prompt and Squeeze the Avocado for her enduring encouragement:






