Pack Ice Season
The Walrus
|January/February 2025
THE ICEBERG slid in on a Sunday morning when the water was as flat as a fresh sheet of tin foil.
It grounded itself about two kilometres from the shoreline. Or it seemed to be grounded. No one could tell for sure from afar. Doug Prentice was up early to turn the heat on in the church. When he spotted the iceberg through the window, he gasped so hard his lungs filled with cold incense-tinged air and sent him into a coughing fit. He scrambled out his phone and posted a photo right away: "Does anyone else see what I see? The resemblance is uncanny. #Jesus #iceberg #icebergjesus #jesusinice. He's got to be at least thirty metres tall!" Doug's phone throbbed with shares. He would always be proud that his picture was first.
Word of the iceberg spread fast, especially with so many out on Sunday drives. "Our own Cristo del Pacifico, but in Atlantic ice," Reverend Bennett posted. "Cristo del Atlantico!" A steady line of traffic chugged along the beach road, and a crowd gathered on the shoreline. They used driftwood logs for seats and makeshift kneelers, as many were moved to prayer.
Various artists were interviewed for their take. One said the face resembled depictions seen in Christ Pantocrator, the early style depicting Jesus as almighty, with the halo and all-seeing gaze. "The resemblance is so striking," the artist said. "God is in the glaciers."
Then "Pack Ice Season" arrived. That was the term the department of tourism was encouraging citizens to use in an attempt to rebrand expectations of spring. Ice flowed in from the north and filled up the bay. It encircled Cristo Del Atlantico/ Christberg/Iceberg Jesus and wedged it in good.
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