Wishful Thinking…Rhyme (Rime) Time on the Rockpile

2017-10-26 10:55:02.000 – Bill Ofsiany, Summit Volunteer

 

This time of year, the days get short;

the cold begins to bite,

The fog that last month, wet the rocks,

now covers it all with white.

 

so common all the time,

Now changes the face of the summit,

and coats everything with rime.

 

as tentacles of rime start to grow,

Straight into the wind, like ice sculptures,

but almost as soft as snow,

 

that forms as fog droplets break down,

And instantly freeze on the instruments:

the tower; the signs; and the ground.

 

can make rime increase by feet,

And form into shapes, like feathers,

so delicate, spectacular, and neat.

 

or the shapes found when the storm’s done,

The real beauty of the rime that’s formed,

is revealed with blue sky and bright sun.

 

and you get to see things all the time;

The most spectacular of all aren’t the sunsets:

auroras; or vistas;……but Rime

 

Bill Ofsiany, Summit Volunteer