twoheadedboy
11-15-2010, 08:23 PM
In our town there are 2 rules in winter: Never be caught off guard, and don’t walk on the ice before it’s 3 inches thick.
I got up this morning and went outside. With the wind blowing it seemed to curse at me like it was waiting in darkness to attack. It was whipping around the frozen lake and coming back around to hit me in the face. I walked and it followed me. I sat and it crept into the small of my back through the wrinkle in my jacket.
I walked down to the lake, which is a small lake. About the size of a football field, maybe a bit larger. By now the shore had frozen to a safe 3 or 4 inches but it’s always the middle that you have to watch out for. With deeper water comes patience.
Walking back up to the house, I heard a sound coming from the woods. In spring the water reflects the trees and from a boat on the lake, you can see up the nostrils of some great oaks and poplars. But presently, they all are barren sticks with sore limbs and white whipped bodies. Except for the pines holding their needles up like an older taunting brother, they were all bare.
A rustle in the brush caught my attention and held it like a picture. It was moving around whatever it was. I hoped it was a white fox, but knew it wasn’t because of the size. This thing was bigger, and I could only see brown and white snowy movement. I dashed inside to get my rifle being careful not to slip on the steps on the way in. I forgot to worry about it on the way out and fell hard. I waited for a second to see if the thing in the bush was still there. It was, and it shuddered to prove it. I sat there on the ground and took aim, being careful to steady myself from my breathing. It was heavy and labored like a drunken old man getting up too fast from sitting. I felt almost ashamed at my breath, but I caught it all the same. Then, I shot.
I got up to go see what it was, maybe a fox, maybe a rabbit. Hopefully it was a white fox. It was probably too big to be a white fox, but I was hopeful. But as I was walking I noticed movement on the lake. All I saw was a fur hood, arms fly up, and someone go down into the cold paralyzing clear.
The middle was not strong enough and someone must have broken through. I panicked and tiptoed to the edge of the hole. I yelled out; there wasn’t anyone there. I cleared the snow off of the surrounding ice to see if they were at another place under the ice. But no one. Then, I fell. I don’t remember losing my grip and falling, but I don’t remember much of anything after that; it’s all white and washed out.
I remember the feeling that I was going to live, but that could have been the hypothermia setting in and making me stupid. It was like a dream, all paralyzing and all peaceful. At the same time, all shaking and all terror. In the midst of the cold, I wondered what I had just shot, but I could not recall.
Then, I went under.
I got up this morning and went outside. With the wind blowing it seemed to curse at me like it was waiting in darkness to attack. It was whipping around the frozen lake and coming back around to hit me in the face. I walked and it followed me. I sat and it crept into the small of my back through the wrinkle in my jacket.
I walked down to the lake, which is a small lake. About the size of a football field, maybe a bit larger. By now the shore had frozen to a safe 3 or 4 inches but it’s always the middle that you have to watch out for. With deeper water comes patience.
Walking back up to the house, I heard a sound coming from the woods. In spring the water reflects the trees and from a boat on the lake, you can see up the nostrils of some great oaks and poplars. But presently, they all are barren sticks with sore limbs and white whipped bodies. Except for the pines holding their needles up like an older taunting brother, they were all bare.
A rustle in the brush caught my attention and held it like a picture. It was moving around whatever it was. I hoped it was a white fox, but knew it wasn’t because of the size. This thing was bigger, and I could only see brown and white snowy movement. I dashed inside to get my rifle being careful not to slip on the steps on the way in. I forgot to worry about it on the way out and fell hard. I waited for a second to see if the thing in the bush was still there. It was, and it shuddered to prove it. I sat there on the ground and took aim, being careful to steady myself from my breathing. It was heavy and labored like a drunken old man getting up too fast from sitting. I felt almost ashamed at my breath, but I caught it all the same. Then, I shot.
I got up to go see what it was, maybe a fox, maybe a rabbit. Hopefully it was a white fox. It was probably too big to be a white fox, but I was hopeful. But as I was walking I noticed movement on the lake. All I saw was a fur hood, arms fly up, and someone go down into the cold paralyzing clear.
The middle was not strong enough and someone must have broken through. I panicked and tiptoed to the edge of the hole. I yelled out; there wasn’t anyone there. I cleared the snow off of the surrounding ice to see if they were at another place under the ice. But no one. Then, I fell. I don’t remember losing my grip and falling, but I don’t remember much of anything after that; it’s all white and washed out.
I remember the feeling that I was going to live, but that could have been the hypothermia setting in and making me stupid. It was like a dream, all paralyzing and all peaceful. At the same time, all shaking and all terror. In the midst of the cold, I wondered what I had just shot, but I could not recall.
Then, I went under.