Lines From a Life II

December 1982, Christmas at Lake Benedict:

The lake lies frozen, covered with a light snow - swellings of white and depressions of grey - it doesn't look frozen at all, just a lake of white-grey water.

Squaw Point at sunset with a swelling moon rising east in slate blue. Sucker Bay lying frozen, stretched in shades of pink and blue. The sunset marshes glow golden - tall, light shining gold of marsh reeds, stocky deep burnished gold of marsh grass, red-gold of winter maples.

Chunks of ice cut from the fishing holes, lying in circles like camp fire rocks. We picked them up and held them to the sunset, held them to the slate-blue moonlight - they held frozen necklaces of air bubbles, crystal spirals, thin silver leaf.

We found the front head plate and a rusted pair of headlamp covers for a Model T Ford in the woods, just as the sun slipped down. That was Sunday.

Early morning, Green Bay, January 1983

Came out into a magical world. It had snowed Thursday. From the second story porch of Dennis's, the world appeared like a Grandma Moses painting. The light was brilliant at 1 a.m. Dark clouds ringed the horizon, but overhead, like a bowl, was an overcast night sky of glowing clouds - grey, yellowish, pinkish. We wondered if there had been a power surge or something. It was so incredibly bright. A rabbit ran through the back yard. A neon world. At home in bed, I wished they'd turn the lights out outside.