Although the river is largely frozen over this far north, the current is running swiftly...and when it is quiet like it was this morning you can hear what I call "the song of the ice." I took pics yes...but then stood for a long time on the shore and listened to the quiet: the wind sloughing through the trees, chick-a-dees chirping, and the ice. Because of the swift current under the ice, there is a lot of pressure and the sounds are remarkable: the ice suddenly cracks and it sounds like a rifle shot, the ice slowly moving and it moans and softly groans, the ice chinks and cracks...all so audible. It is like a primordial melody.