Delicate filagrees of ice around the edges of the Darling Preserve, art forms made possible by the transformative ability of water, it’s shape-shifting from water to gas to ice.
This transformation is literally “sublime.” As Annie Dillard wrote in Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, “In a dry wind like this, snow and ice can pass directly into the air as a gas without having first melted to water. This process is called sublimation; tonight the snow in the yard and the ice in the creek sublime.”
So, sublime nature greets me in an intricacy of swirls and loops, an evanescent beauty waiting sublime, to sublime.
As Haruki Murakami said in “Blind Willow, Sleeping Woman,” “Ice contains no future , just the past, sealed away. As if they’re alive, everything in the world is sealed up inside, clear and distinct. Ice can preserve all kinds of things that way- cleanly, clearly. That’s the essence of ice, the role it plays.”