Just think how stupid the average person is, and then realize that half of them are even stupider!" --George Carlin
If I were to give these two guys the benefit of the doubt, I could say they have probably lived here a lot longer than me, maybe all their lives, and thus may know the ice conditions better than me, but there's no way I would have gone out on the ice yesterday afternoon. None. Zero. Zip. Nada. I could not believe my eyes when I looked up from my computer and saw them heading out, each carrying an end of the yellow boat. As you can see from their reflections, there's liquid water on top of the ice. It's not deep, but still... A few days ago I took photos of the cracks in the ice along the shore, and it didn't look good then. Remember those ice fishing guys in Ohio a few weeks ago who drove their ATVs over a crack in the ice by putting down plywood, and ended up having to be rescued by helicopters and airboats? All I could think of watching these two was, Whadaya nuts?! I watched these two 'til they climbed up to the top of that pile of ice and disappeared. I don't know what happened to them after that. Maybe they figured if the ice broke, they could always jump in the boat. Except they didn't take it with them to the summit.
These fellows may have turned out all right (we hope) but those who don't do not depart unrecognized; visit The Darwin Awards site (but be sure to have a bowl of Black Humor Krispies for breakfast, first)
The Cloud Messenger (Meghadūta) is a lyric poem by the respected Indian poet, Kālidāsa. The poem centers around a yaksa in exile. Longing for his beloved, waiting for him on a Himalayan mountain, he asks a cloud to take a message to her. The sights he tells the cloud it will see on its way make up most of the poem.
The idea of recording observations appeals to me. I thought The Cloud Messenger was the perfect title for a blog about the journey that we all make as we move through our days.
I'm a baby boomer who grew up dancing in the streets of Detroit during the classic Motown years, lived beside the Rocky Mountains for many years, now retired and living (and writing full time) in S. Ontario. I have one blog for rock 'n' roll oldies, and one for nature, poetry and life along the Lake.