Overnight temperatures in the single digits. A sheen of new ice coated the navigation channel. The first barge of the day pushed through the thin layer, breaking and churning ice under its bow as it went. I heard the barge as it approached, crunching through the ice. I went to my bedroom window and opened the blinds to watch the barge plow up the channel. Chunks of ice shot out ahead of the barge and slid over the smooth, unbroken ice sheet like rabbits racing from an oncoming truck and scattering out of the way to all sides. The tug pushing the barge left a wake of churning of ice and foam from its props like a smoothie poured from a blender.