After two weeks of freezing temperatures the Mascoma River has started to freeze. It does so in a manner that is perhaps reverse of what you might expect. Blobs and rafts of ice start floating by, a few sticking to the edges, building up in size as more water freezes to them. It is the widest part of the river which closes up first, the lazy passage of ice rafts lodging easier in the slower current.

And from the ice locked section the rest of the river begins to close like a wound healing over. Eventually there's only a jagged scar left behind and that is soon smoothed over in a talcum of snow. The river is but a white contour of itself that whispers in faint gurgles to those who venture close.