First Catch on the Ice: Similes and Metaphors

Morning on the Frozen Lake

1Ines had never been awake this early on a Saturday. The sky over Birch Lake was still dark blue, and the cold was a nosy cat that slipped into every gap in her coat. She tugged her scarf over her nose and followed Grandpa onto the ice. Behind them, the sled full of fishing gear scraped and rattled like a box of loose spoons.

2The lake was a giant white dinner plate, flat and empty in every direction. Grandpa had checked the ice the day before, and he said it was thick and safe. Even so, Ines's heart was a drum as her boots crunched across the snow. Every few minutes, the ice made a low, rumbling boom, like a whale singing far below them. "That's just the ice talking," Grandpa said. "It makes noises like that when the temperature changes."

3Grandpa used a hand drill to cut a round hole through the ice. Gray slush bubbled up like oatmeal in a pot. He scooped it out, lowered a line with a tiny silver lure into the dark water, and handed Ines a short fishing rod. "Now we wait," he said. Ines nodded, but waiting was a mountain she had never been good at climbing.

4For a long time, nothing happened. The sun crept up and painted the far shore pink and gold. Ines's toes turned into ice cubes inside her boots, so she stomped them until Grandpa laughed. "You sound like a herd of buffalo," he said. "The fish will think a storm is coming." After that, Ines stayed as still as a statue.

5Then the rod gave a tiny tug. Ines gasped. A second tug came, harder this time. "Reel slowly," Grandpa whispered. The line was a living thread, twitching and pulling toward the bottom of the lake. Ines turned the handle bit by bit. At last, a yellow perch slid out of the hole, its scales flashing like new coins in the sunlight.

6Ines held the fish up, grinning so wide that her cheeks ached. Suddenly, the cold didn't matter at all. Grandpa gently unhooked the little perch and slipped it back into the hole. "It's still young," he said. "Let it grow." Ines watched the ripples fade. On the long walk back to the truck, the lake no longer looked like an empty plate. It was a treasure chest with a frozen lid, and she couldn't wait to open it again.