The Columnist Manifesto

Winter started late and ended late here in My Home Town. Yesterday was the first day of warm spring weather, and it began with dense fog. I walked down to the lake.





I couldn't see much past the edge, but the ice seemed soft and thin, and was making strange noises. It hasn't gotten below freezing for a few days now, so it seemed like a matter of time before the ice would start it's final break-up and melt-down.


The fog burned off, giving way to a sunny, beautiful spring day. I've lived in places where the weather feels like it's warm and cold at the same time -- San Francisco is notoriously this way -- because you get heated by the glaring sun while chilling breezes hit you. My Home Town wasn't quite like this today: the breezes were warm, like the scirocco. Okay, I dramatize, but there wasn't a hint of chill in the breeze.

That is, until you got near the lake. There, the breeze blowing across the still icy surface gave a sensation of artificial cooling, like stepping into the meat locker at your summer job.

At the edge of the shore, I saw this:



The breaking ice sheets were blown by the wind to the edge of the lake, where they formed piles of brick-sized ice cubes! These piles formed with just a few hours. Compare the photo of the lake, above taken that morning.



Ice or no ice, the folks of My Home Town were going to enjoy this spring day in shorts.



This morning, the lake was completely open. And with temperatures expected to hit the mid-70s today, the ice cube piles will soon be gone.