The River Must Floe

After a frigid night accompanied by constant wind the morning river was heavy with ice.  But, however sluggishly, it continued to make its way north.  When the temperature reached 15 degrees I ventured out to capture its shapes, colors, and light.  I was greeted by not only the view but the sound of the ice-laden river.  Instead of its usual silent passage it creaked and groaned and seemed to say, “I may appear lovely but carrying this load isn’t as easy as I make it look.”

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