Chasing Wild Ice
Katrina Rosen
Deep in the Canadian Rocky Mountains, I stood at the edge of a delicately frozen lake. Puffy clouds ringed in pink and the tilt of the sunrise began to kiss the surrounding peaks. Laser-like pings, creaks and other worldly sounds emitted from pristine blue ice. The lake itself still moved. Bubbles caught in the thinnest layer of ice danced like a lava lamp near my feet. Open water from kilometers away still brought breath to this alpine bay and the ice heaved with inhales as if the lake merely clung to a thin layer of saran wrap.
