The river lies resting beneath the ice. Whether that rest is peaceful or anxious, I cannot say. Is there resentment in the old watery heart at having been "tamed into a series of navigation pools, locked punitively between dams? Does it rest quietly, dreaming of spring and fresh snow melt, or does it wait like an ambush predator beneath its brilliant blanket of snow and ice, waiting for the inevitable fool to try to walk across it's vast width, only to disappear into its icy, ancient…
ContinueAdded by Vernon Windsor on February 14, 2011 at 11:30am — 3 Comments
© 2024 Created by Aggie. Powered by