April 17, 2015. “In a Wonderland they lie, Dreaming as the days go by, Dreaming as the summers die: Ever drifting down the stream- Lingering in the golden gleam- Life, what is it but a dream?” ― Lewis Carroll, Through the Looking Glass The cob feeds on the glass-like harbour just after dawn.
Beautifully delicate fingers of ice were being forced upwards by pressure as ice collided with ice on the way out of the harbour.
Ice flowing out of the mouth of the harbour.
