In nature, ice forms restlessly. Water slows and cools and becomes sluggish. It crystallizes into ice, melts, and then freezes once more. The ice moves, and fractures and then freezes again in new patterns, over and over, each time embodying the lines and textures of its own history. Bubbles and leaves and waves are trapped, like memories of past summers. Colors range from deepest midnight to vivid azure. Where it catches the sunlight, the colors of the prism are unlocked, and water begins to bead, and then to flow. Spring will be here soon.
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