Monday, February 24, 2003
The sea of sunlit broken glass we observed by Loyola last week had thawed and recongealed into a sandy moonscape by this weekend, battered by repeated fusillades of slushy waves forming and re-forming the winter coast of the lake. Brownish water rumbled like an oncoming train with each crash, the force of each wave sweeping up bucketfuls of glittering iceballs ten - sometimes twenty - feet into the air, only to have them fall with tinkly, anticlimactic pops onto the icepack. You'd be forgiven for thinking you were on a Bering Strait cutter. Pictures soon, folks.
|You are the Quaker Oats man! Stodgy and old fashioned, you probably still churn your own butter. Since you don't have electricity, what are you doing online?|
Take the Which Breakfast Cereal Character Are You? quiz.
Published by JC.
Or..."Dude, you're getting a buggy!"