The red bloodshot eye of a late winter sun stares myopically through streaks of cirrus clouds and the barren brown branches of scrub brush. The remnants of life are still frozen solid under six month’s accumulation of ice. A polar wind keeps the temperature forty below zero Fahrenheit. Extreme cold finally noisily freezes the lake to the very bottom. Swelling ice pops like cannon shots as expansion causes the brittle ice to fracture and push up from the lake bed.
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