Today, oh miracle of miracles, it was 54 degrees in our little town here in Maine.
Each winter, I wonder about the fishermen who spend their days in the ice shacks out on the frozen river that runs past our town. At this time of the year, when the temperature begins to rise and the ice begins to melt, I'm always eager to drive across one of the bridges to see if the folks - the hearty folks - are still out there.
Today, not only were they there, they had come out of their shacks and were milling about all over the river, as though it were a large park. A park that goes away, come spring. There were lawn chairs, ATVs, and snowmobiles. It was a quite a party!
For a fleeting moment, I thought about how fun it would be to join them, but... this is a RIVER. A deep river. A lake or pond is one thing. If the ice were to break on a pond, one would go down, come back up, and be rescued quite quickly, especially with such a crowd around. A river, however, is MOVING. This scene, in fact, is only about 100 yards below the dam, where there is usually quite a flow. I don't even want to speculate about what would happen if one of these lovely people fell through that ice. I shudder to think of it.
But back to less-morbid thoughts - it was an incredibly beautiful day and it was fun to see the ice-fishermen enjoying themselves.
Copyright © 2009 - Paulla Estes