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New Year's Day and Subsequent January
Jan. 4th, 2016 08:38 amI want to record that we threw chunks of ice onto the frozen pond and it made the most amazing sound, a cascade of cheeping and chiming echoes. The ice would shatter and make the whole pond ring. The fragments shot and skidded, striking other chunks of ice and sending reverberations in every compass direction, singing to the north and south and east and west and all the fiddly slivers in between.
This was the Harrison Yacht Pond, specifically designated for radio-controlled boats.* All the little docks were frozen into a thick sheet of ice. There were pockets of other people around the edge also throwing ice on ice.
I want to record that it was cold and bright on the walkway atop the breakwater, but that when some of us climbed down below (I was one of the last) the air was still and warm. We were shielded from the wind, though we could see it shoving the sailboats sideways across the water. We sat there a long time.
Also, L. played "Jesus Take the Wheel" out loud on her device and discussion ensued of the practicality of such an action as compared to pumping the brakes (or, in the case of anti-lock brakes, applying steady pressure).
I've an artist friend who told me she celebrates Christmas until February 1, and while the idea of a five-week Christmas per se makes me feel queasy, the notion of prolonging the idea that we are doing Something Special into January -- bot jsut living through the ghastliest and longest month of the year -- seems like a very good one.
Therefore, I think from now on I will celebrate a secular Epiphany on January 6th and read lots of short stories that end with moments of sudden insight.
{rf}
*It seems to me that I know this poind was donated by someone unlikely like the Prince of Monaco, but I can find no record of this online -- only a Mayor Harrison -- and the pond itself is too far away for a quick check (I do not think the plaque would show up on Google Street View).
This was the Harrison Yacht Pond, specifically designated for radio-controlled boats.* All the little docks were frozen into a thick sheet of ice. There were pockets of other people around the edge also throwing ice on ice.
I want to record that it was cold and bright on the walkway atop the breakwater, but that when some of us climbed down below (I was one of the last) the air was still and warm. We were shielded from the wind, though we could see it shoving the sailboats sideways across the water. We sat there a long time.
Also, L. played "Jesus Take the Wheel" out loud on her device and discussion ensued of the practicality of such an action as compared to pumping the brakes (or, in the case of anti-lock brakes, applying steady pressure).
I've an artist friend who told me she celebrates Christmas until February 1, and while the idea of a five-week Christmas per se makes me feel queasy, the notion of prolonging the idea that we are doing Something Special into January -- bot jsut living through the ghastliest and longest month of the year -- seems like a very good one.
Therefore, I think from now on I will celebrate a secular Epiphany on January 6th and read lots of short stories that end with moments of sudden insight.
{rf}
*It seems to me that I know this poind was donated by someone unlikely like the Prince of Monaco, but I can find no record of this online -- only a Mayor Harrison -- and the pond itself is too far away for a quick check (I do not think the plaque would show up on Google Street View).
