In the Absence of Clocks

Crimea, an Unexpected Freeze

6 Crimea, an Unexpected Freeze A cold wolf hangs from the teat of upper atmosphere. It sweeps the crags of coastline, the dull smear of beach. Its breath cuts through a cradle of rigging, the broad faces of sails. The straw-boned seabirds are blown from their trawlers, their religion of fish. But the heavy pelicans remain, float in the surprise of icewash, pick jewels of freeze from wings, the feathery scissors of their tails. As all warm animals do in Ukraine, the pelicans try, but the long trowel of their beaks cannot reach what is closest to them. These great birds go last, too heavy to fly. They sink under swelling breastplates of ice. ...