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.
Wind and cold and fog;
so common all the time,
Now changes the face of the summit,
and coats everything with rime.
The summit looks otherworldly,
as tentacles of rime start to grow,
Straight into the wind, like ice sculptures,
but almost as soft as snow,
Or something very much like it,
that forms as fog droplets break down,
And instantly freeze on the instruments:
the tower; the signs; and the ground.
Moist air passing over the peak,
can make rime increase by feet,
And form into shapes, like feathers,
so delicate, spectacular, and neat.
No matter what the growth rate is,
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.
Of all the things that you see here,
and you get to see things all the time;
The most spectacular of all aren’t the sunsets:
auroras; or vistas;……but Rime
Rime ice alpenglow on the Tip Top House at sunrise 10/29/2016
Bill Ofsiany, Summit Volunteer