Kids. Three of them on skates on rotten ice. What were they thinking? Open water edges, floating ducks. Spring having sprung.
Firemen with a ladder lugged through the woods. Kids clinging to a rock. All safe--thankfully.
But it begs the question: how crazy is that?
The pond this morning groaning its melt: whale songs? a woman compared it to. The booming, echoing, loosening, cracking. Fractures.
The fractured hearts if one of those kids had been harmed. Lost.
Saved from their urge to do the supremely stupid.
But what is it that leads people to think they can skate on a spring pond anxious to swallow its surface?
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