The Transitional Season Landscape

The only thing to resist spring's hastened arrival is the lake. Green shoots of grass fight their way through the tangled brown remnants of last year's photosynthesis. Couples take the moment that their dog is occupied with its sniffing to caress in the fading light. Music and fragments of conversation travel from rolled-down car windows and yards partly shielded by skeletal shrubs. A crowd ambulates the path around the lake, thinner than it would have been earlier in the day, but sizable compared to the foot traffic of the preceding season. The city has awakened under the record heat and recently stretched daylight. 

But the lake is obstinate. It has clung to its coating of ice, which lies still and matte, ranging from thin smoothness to furrowed impasto, prefiguring the deep charcoal gray of the oncoming night. But the surface has fissured. In the places where the slush has split, open water brilliantly mirrors the dimming light and draws attention to its lingering presence. A shining silver point extends where the ice has begun to recede from the shore. Far off, narrow cracks reflect the city lights in duplicate.

Ducks descend and flap close to the surface, lured by the sparkling promise of open water. But they continue on and on across the lake because they are unable to find a gap wide enough for a landing. Despite its thinning cover and the obvious, glowing flaws that show through, the lake has not given up. It exhales occasional bracing breezes, no longer icy, but still asserting the recent grip of colder temperatures. 

We will soon allow the memories of snow, ice and visible breath to melt away with the bright sun, heavy air and pleasant frenzy of enjoying every moment we're free from winter. The lake, rather than providing sturdy support to ice houses and trucks, will be parted by keels, thrashed by swimmers and pierced by paddles and oars. Its peaceful, solitary time is coming to a harshly abrupt end. But our summers are short. Winter will be back soon enough, and the lake will begin forming a new cover of easily broken frost, persisting in its task until it builds up several inches of concealing ice. In the meantime, we'll enjoy this brief moment of candid open water.