Only a foot or two of the river is frozen at the edge. The Charles freezes, thaws – freezes – framing ice in crazy layers, delightful shapes. 

Careful not to step clumsily, I kneel on weeds to appreciate how the river improvises with ice. 

I cannot draw or paint or sculpt - but I can stop and wonder at how the river in all its weather frames images I don't have to explain, just love to see.