Winter Reflections #2

The river starts to open. Today the buoys before the run past Point Shores float in open waters. Last month the river was clear only at the Chain Bridge and the I-95 Overpass. Waterfowl and seagulls congregated there. An eagle called the waters home. Upriver those buoys before Point Shores were stuck in ice, tilting always in the same frozen direction despite the tide. But it's just a matter of time before we see ice-out and that stretch of river winding westwards suddenly opens. It will seem to happen overnight. One day the river will be white with ice from January's freeze. The next day March will flow towards the sea. That moment is why one stays in New England. There's nothing quite like it. The anticipation is maddening. The blood rises. Every day the sun sets a minute later and every morning one more bird is heard in the nearby woods. Then one day the river will flow blue like the wind. I'll feel it break through my slow and silent winter spirit like a ray of light. And that one shining moment will be worth more than any tropical getaway. I like to believe.