Hard Cold

Our return to the land of the frozen was dry but bitter. We waded through 6 inches of snow covered in ice to the front door and carried our gear ever so carefully.  By the next day a rain that originated with warm air high above us in the atmosphere fell through the frozen air and as it reached near our ground it became liquid ice and this is what we saw when we woke the next morning.

I put on my camouflage gear and winter boots and headed out early for just a sneak at what the river looked like.  The dock was wrapped like a silver package in a sheet of ice with a glitter dusting of snow and my concern for both my camera and my bones made me stop short of the edge where it hung over the water.  The nets in the left foreground are oyster floats.  I think the oysters are down in the mud right now, but I will have to ask hubby if these are just empty or set-asides. Other oyster farmers in the area are worried about their oyster stock in this frozen water.  The plastic owl leaning drunkenly below is supposed to chase away birds from leaving calling cards on the dock, and now askew, he is hardly looking intimidating.  The boat was pulled in late fall for some motor maintenance and sits on a trailer in the front yard and not on the boat lift below.  This finger of the river is frozen all the way out the day this photo was taken.  An unusual event, certainly.  This is as far as I was brave enough to walk.