I am enchanted by icebergs. Waiting to see if they will appear in the spring awakes my senses after the long Newfoundland winter. Glacial ice appears along our coast as pack ice, bergie bits, and icebergs. The white forms are enticingly beautiful and dangerously unpredictable, drifting into shore, blowing back out to sea. Formed in layers over thousands of years, the ice contains a record of time revealed only as it melts and breaks, its mysteries disappearing into the ocean. Some years the ice is close for months, some years we only have a glimpse of white on the horizon, reflecting sunlight on a clear day.