Ferry & Ice

This morning a flurry of 2007 Lake Champlain skating photos popped up on my phone inducing a wave of nostalgia. It’s worth noting that my wistfulness was not *only* for younger days, though there’s no denying that was part of it. A dramatic departure from the days of my childhood and even more recent decades, Lake Champlain has trended away from the shore-to-shore icing that once defined winter. Inspired by the photographs (below), I share with you this evening a quick reflection on ferry and ice, a pairing once tested each February and March.

Once upon a time Lake Champlain froze solid each winter. Skaters, cross-country skiers, ice fisherman, all ventured out onto the ice. Often snowmobiles and trucks too. Fortunately, the ferry often managed to keep up with the ice, clearing a watery channel between Essex, New York and Charlotte, Vermont.

So I’m sitting there this morning reminiscing; looking at the skating photos below sent by Tom Duca; and absorbing the facts that:

• almost 2 decades have swooshed past since that spectacular day that Tom, Mark, and I skated from Essex to the Palisades,
• climate change appears to have put the kibosh on a fully frozen lake,
• the annual ferry and ice questions — Will the ferry be able to keep up with the ice? Will the ferry be able to run all winter? — have been rendered obsolete to the point of seeming almost quaint,
• I can’t even remember the last time I ice skated, and
• something else (elusive but nagging) percolated just below the surface. 

This last one, the barely perceptible but irritating awareness that something else was in play, held my midmorning attention.

Ferry and ice, ferry and ice… and then it struck me. Fire and ice. Ferry and ice sounded so similar to the poignant poem, “Fire and Ice” by Robert Frost.

And not only did these phrases echo one another. I was sensing another echo, something settler today that felt familiar with Frost’s poem.

Fire and Ice by Robert Frost

Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I’ve tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice.

(Source: Poetry Foundation)

Was there something there?

Frost’s short poem considers, in oversimplified but potent terms, the nature of destruction. He combines emotional or psychological destruction with physical destruction of the world. His fleeting look at desire and hate reminds us that both can be devastating and even ruinous. The poem is unsettling for its fatalism and for its indifference. 

I’ll resist the inevitable temptation to draw a parallel between these tempestuous times and Frost’s stark conclusions. Too much. Too much…

But I’ll concede that the sentiment, heart heavy-ing and spirit suppressing, was present for me this morning. Yes, there was also joy, contemplating a happy morning with friends in a spectacular spot when the world at least seemed less drought. but the distance between now and then… so, so much distance.

Ferry & Ice

Forgotten photos
tease yearning for what’s now gone,
angst for what’s ahead. 

Okay, that was cathartic. Letting go. leaning into the good nostalgia. Letting go of the bad nostalgia.

Here are the photos (and some of the exchange) that stimulated this contemplation.

Tom: Young and foolish boys skating from Essex to the Palisades…

Mark: That was quite a day! The thrill of jumping over large cracks while the ice was making booming sounds.

Tom: As the day warmed up and the sun was shining!

Geo: Young boys indeed! Beautiful photos. Beautiful memories. Thank you, Tom.

Mark: Now I’m scratching my head trying to remember the last time the lake froze over.

Tom: 2016. Also 2014.

Mark: We’re overdue…

Thanks, Tom and Mark. Here’s to skating again soon!