Watching the Ottauquechee's twist to the north at mid-day, the traffic jam of floating ice behaved like flat and shape-shifting bumper cars. Or to shift similes, each rough-edged blob, at any one moment, took the form of a land mass seen from high above, with harbors, isthmuses, peninsulas and hinterlands. Yet they moved and spun, collided and merged, a kind of watery plate tectonics gone berserk. While all this helter skelter streamed by, the accreting border ice crept toward the center, too slowly to observe, but evidenced by the striations of the freeze.
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