Ice-out

March 20.

Walden is melting apace. It has a canal two rods wide along the northerly side and the west end, wider at the east end, yet, after running round from west to east, it does not keep the south shore, but crosses in front of the  deep cove in a broad crack to where it started, by the lee ground. It is glorious to behold the life and joy of this ribbon of water sparkling in the sun. 

The wind blows eastward over the opaque ice, unusually hard, all watered or waved like a tessellated floor, a figured carpet; yet dead, yet in vain, till it slides on to the living water surface, where it raises a myriad brilliant sparkles on the bare face of the pond, an expression of glee, of youth, of spring, as if it spoke the joy of the fishes within it and of the sands on its shore, a silvery sheen like the scales of a leuciscus, as if it were all one active fish in the spring.  

It is the contrast between life and death. There is the difference between winter and spring. The bared face of the pond sparkles with joy.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, March 20, 1853

The bared face of the pond sparkles with joy. See Walden ("Walden is melting apace. There is a canal two rods wide along the northerly and westerly sides, and wider still at the east end. A great field of ice has cracked off from the main body. I hear a song sparrow singing from the bushes on the shore — olit, olit, olit-chip, chip, chip, che char-che wiss, wiss, wiss. He too is helping to crack it. How handsome the great sweeping curves in the edge of the ice, answering somewhat to those of the shore, but more regular! It is unusually hard, owing to the recent severe but transient cold, and all watered or waved like a palace floor. But the wind slides eastward over its opaque surface in vain, till it reaches the living surface beyond. It is glorious to behold this ribbon of water sparkling in the sun, the bare face of the pond full of glee and youth, as if it spoke the joy of the fishes within it, and of the sands on its shore — a silvery sheen as from the scales of a leuciscus, as it were all one active fish. Such is the contrast between winter and spring. Walden was dead and is alive again. But this spring it broke up more steadily, as I have said.") See also Walden: ("Walden was first completely open in 1845 the 1st of April;

in '46, the 25th of March;
in '47, the 8th of April;
in '51, the 28th of March;
in '52, the 18th of April;
in '53, the 23rd of March;
in '54, about the 7th of April.”);

April 9, 1854 ("I am surprised to find Walden completely open. When did it open ? According to all accounts, it must have been between the 6th and 9th.")

March 29, 1855 ("As I stand on Heywood’s Peak, looking over Walden, more than half its surface already sparkling blue water, I inhale with pleasure the cold but wholesome air like a draught of cold water”)

April 18, 1856 ("Walden is open entirely to-day for the first time, owing to the rain of yesterday and evening. I have observed its breaking up of different years commencing in ’45, and the average date has been April 4th.“)

March 29, 1857 ("Walden open, say to-day, though there is still a little ice in the deep southern bay and a very narrow edging along the southern shore.”)

March 28, 1858 (“Walden is open. When? On the 20th it was pretty solid. C. sees a very little ice in it to-day, but probably it gets entirely free to-night.”

March 29, 1859 ("Walden is first clear after to-day.”)

March 14, 1860 ("No sooner has the ice of Walden melted than the wind begins to play in dark ripples over the surface of the virgin water. Ice dissolved is the next moment as perfect water as if melted a million years.”)

See also A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, Ice-Out