Wednesday, first ice on the river. High clouds and no wind, water brown and glossy, soft smooth swells. Sludgy chunks of ice rising and falling, clogging the corners where the piers meet the seawall. Yesterday, warmer, everything melting. Today, bright sun, wind, strong current, ten degrees. Rushing blue water, glittering white ice in six-foot-wide floes stretching eighty feet from the wall into the river. And more ice racing down from the north, catching on and adding to what's piling up already. Ferries still chugging up and down; their swells travel under the ice, reminding me of my cat sneaking under the blanket after the bed's made.