There are times when creation absolutely shouts its wonder.  Standing on the Llogara Pass, listening to the storm surge crash against the shore a thousand feet below; drifting through a pod of whales as they breathe, each larger than your boat; dancing through a Midwest storm and then picking up the pieces left behind by the tornado, there is often nothing subtle about the awesome power of nature.  And then, there are nights like tonight.

For lack of a better description, tonight we had an icefall.  Standing on my porch, the ice was not large enough to be felt through my hair, I could barely feel it on my skin, but I could hear it.  It was a cascading sound of water, with a crisp, ringing overtone.  The crisp sound of falling water came out of a clear sky, with stars shining down as if to whisper “be watchful, Kid, wonders are not always shouted.”