1.1.14 Happy New Year's Day to You!

Early this morning, at my office, in work clothes and heeled boots , I hear the call of the river- the beginning winter's ice-floes , crashing round the corners of The Connecticut. 

After knocking on my brother's office door, embracing him, and wishing him a happy new year, I steal over to the rickety steps that lead down to the riverside, past broken railings, debris strewn.

I teeter down the old steps, and carefully make my way to the edge of the small precipice, to have a glorious look over the edge at the piles of broken ice, remnants of the river rising up, freezing, and then emptying again, leaving shelves of iridescent silver ,white and clear layers upon layers of ice.

And there, stretched far out before me, the broad Connecticut. 
Deepest blue! Scattered with icefloes , racing with the current.

The sun behind me is just now cresting the stately Firs, spreading across our low office building, and at this moment, spills down over the steep incline , splaying bright morning light across the river's edge. 

I stand in the dead leaves, gazing down at the remarkable shade that should be called. 'Connecticut River Winter Blue' . Here I find the chorus of trees that have lived here , in the river's four season environment, for so long.



After the warmer days last week, that melted everything, we have been tossed back into the rhododendron leaf-curling frigid cold , so once again, today, the river is filling with ice floe of varying sizes that have formed far up north , in far colder lands, and are coming on through our neighborhood, the ice thickening and lengthening with each crystal cold night and day.

And here today, like enormous starships, or legendary clouds overhead, ice floes come crash into this corner as they navigate their way down to the sea.

I stand and watch the bright blue sky of this new year, the river upstream round it's corner , and the river downstream , flowing past the conservation path so many of us frequent, the air crisp and freezing cold , as , around the bend , comes an ice floe - maybe 40 feet long by 10 or 12 feet wide.

It careens round the bend of the river, carried by the swift current, and comes crashing up alongside the banks, scraping along powerfully below where I am standing.

Yesterday, I was at the Conservation path around the corner, the beautiful long paths up on arroyos, so that you look far down to the river. All of the errant strangers walking by me, and myself, we found ourselves mentioning to each other that usually, when there are sounds along the river, it's wildlife.

But in winter ; it's the river-transforming itself. Into ice.

Just watching the remarkable blue waters and the ice, and the trees who have lived here for so long, I take a video. 

Midway, I squat further and further down, to catch the light of the trees on the other side of the river.

When it's time to stand back up, on my heels, on this little precipice, in the video you can see a bit of wobbling . Hmmm. A little spice for my first day of 2014.

Filled with the crashing careening ice and the broad Connecticut, it's leaning-in trees and the vast blue sky, I return to my office, to my car, and my home , downstream, to relish the beginnings of our new year .

Here's wishing all of you wisdom, ease, and the capacity to digest just enough of your experiences that you're able to settle deep down into yourself and relish this which is your life.