Last night, I watched as ice spread across the black mirror of the canal. The fractal bloom of crystals seeming to freeze not only water, but light and time. There was an oppressive stillness. With no breeze to move tree, water or boat, the usual interference that scatters light was missing. The sodium white falling from lampposts trapped in a frozen moment. The new lid on the water, glowing with captured brilliance.
Beyond my window, it seemed to be the world of fermata. Everything but the ice was on pause. Only it seemed endowed with the power to move. A leaping contagion, imprisoning all it touched.
The hold was broken this morning as the first chugger strained against the ice. A pre-dawn chorus of shattering water glass accompanied by the rhythmic wallop of a strugling engine. The boat itself giving guttural surprise as its wood rasped against something more solid than the expected water.
Now the day is sinking again. Gangs of small, petulant clouds hang around like teenagers with nowhere to go. The air is thick with wood smoke from a neighbour’s boat. Fairy lights strung on prow-mounted Christmas tree make a motionless gold chain across the canal. Stillness is folding back around me with the coming night.
The constant rush hour procession of headlights spilling from across the road will soon slow. A furious parade winding down to occasional sudden stabbing beams that try to race across the water and tease my windows. Usually the water swallows any light that tries to swim across the pool. Tonight it can bounce high on the ridges of unfurling ice sheets. Even in harsh slap of winter, the beauty of the Three Bridge Kingdom grips my soul tight.
6 comments:
Very beautiful; I can only imagine living on those boats in an ice frozen canal.
GucciMuse
"The hold was broken this morning as the first chugger strained against the ice."
I had to read that sentence three times before I realised that you weren't talking about a charity mugger.
If you have to read it three times, I have messed up. As for charity muggers, they never come near me. They can sense I am trouble.
Hi David, I dropped in for a bit of respite from the maelstrom. Your posts never disappoint - excepting their infrequency. Beautiful, and poetic they are...and funnily enough 'Respite' was the name of my little boat on the Thames too many years ago. I love being on the water, no matter the season, and your crystalised dreams have taken me back there. Nice one mate. Thanks.
Hi david..another brilliant blog from you..I always find a kind of soothing shelter and welcoming solitary romanticism in your writings..Subhadip
David, I read almost everything you say 3 or 4 times.
Not because I can't understand what your saying, but because your writing is like your favorite painting in a museum. You can never walk away from it forever.
I've read every post, multiple times, and it still surprises me every time I see how beautiful your words are. You're definitely an artist. <33 Love ya d00d! haha
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