The guns are gone now that hunting is over on the wetlands. Except for area far above the high tide line, there is no snow, just ice, bent grass, and frozen mud. A raft of very relaxed ducks floats just down channel form the little dog and I. How many quiet days does it take for them to drop their guard?
Wishing that I had brought my ice grippers, I spend most of my time with eyes down, careful to step on patches of grass sticking out the ice. I am surprised by the view of Lemon Glacier when I do look up. Its terminus hangs above the Lemon Creek Valley with its collection of box stores and the state prison. Long banners of blown snow trail off the surrounding peaks.
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