The cove is frozen, out to the mouth of Harris Creek, as is much along the banks of the Miles and Oak Creek, too. Today I crossed the flat Choptank River into Cambridge, and although the polar vortex is over, I watched a gull land on ice, skidding then running along the surface of the middle of the river.
The shallow waters around Claiborne’s landing have that chunky look, frozen in mid-slush, circles upon ovals, craggedy patterns, texture, color, light. Too much wind created the wrong kind of stuff for our ice sailors to come out, but who’s to say it won’t happen this winter?
Appreciation for the two extra minutes of light today.