During the winter we are mainly housebound.
Naturally, the first warm day which was only
above freezing but sunny, the lake park
beckoned us for a walk. My husband’s voice
declared in utter amazement that he had
never seen such a sight on Onondaga Lake.
Watching my feet as I walked on uneven grass,
I had not even investigated the distant lake.
An ichthyologist by training, my husband declared
he would never be ice fishing out there. Racing
through my mind were a myriad of questions. At
the top of my list was how did this person
get out onto the middle of the frozen lake?
At first, the seated figure appeared to be
reading a book. But why out on the ice?
Maybe there were fewer distractions?
How thick was the ice? How did it support
him, his chair, and a sled of belongings? How
deep was the lake? Would he walk ashore
if he fell through the ice? I had heard of ice
fishing at other lakes but until very
recently, this body of water had been
polluted. After major cleanup operations,
fishing apparently was permitted.
As we continued the conversation and walk,
I was drawn back to the seated individual
In the middle of an icy lake. If I waited long
enough, could I see how this person got
on shore again? The lake park never ceases
to amaze. Soon the Canada geese will return.
People still walk their dogs along the
parkway. Boaters will return. But ice fishing?