Listening to the Ice Freeze

I’ve walked the shores of quite a few lakes on quite a few winter days, but in all my many years of hiking, I have before never experienced the awesome sound of ice freezing. To be sure, "listening to ice freezing" sounds a whole lot like "watching paint dry," but nothing could be further from the truth.

This happened back in December, on a cold Saturday. When we got out of the car at Branched Oak, the temperature was a balmy 21 degrees, with very little wind. It was nowhere near as cold as it had recently been. Still, it hadn’t been cold enough long enough for the die-hard ice fishermen to be able to trust the strength of the new ice, so we were all alone at the reservoir. As soon as I’d finished locking up the car, I was baffled by a persistent noise.

Now, I've been at the lake in all kinds of conditions, and I've heard everything from thousands of snow geese to ice boats, but this noise was different. I’ve tried to find words to describe it, but the closest mental image I can give you of the sound is to – well, imagine a big upset stomach.

Tim ignored the sound, but JoLee paid attention, and so did Star. It gave us an unsettled feeling; a bit like a warning to be heeded. I was relieved when I figured out that it was the lake that was groaning. It burbled. It whispered, restlessly, and occasionally made sharp cracking noises, like a shot fired. And the oddest part of all of it is that all of these noises echoed, not only from under the ice, but all around us.

When we stood on Lieber’s Point, a finger of land that extends out into the lake, it was as if we had been swallowed, and that the lake was getting ready to regurgitate us. I felt small and insignificant. I can’t even begin to imagine the sound of the ice moving in the Arctic at thawing time.

Although eventually Star and JoLee lost interest in it, I continued to marvel at the noise as we continued our walk. It proved to me once again that, no matter how many experiences I may have throughout my lifetime, there are still new experiences out there for me.

Maybe even right next door.