Out of the mist...

The alarm clock goes off early pulling me out of a deep dream and into the cold morning. After a few minutes of snuggling with my husband, I face the day by stumbling into the next room. As usual, I go to the window and look out at the gray winter Kiev sights. Where I can usually look across the Dneiper River to see Rodina Mat, the huge statue that "protects the city" and the beautiful Orthodox Church, I only see a very heavy mist. I can't even see the ice-covered river. I can barely see the Venetsia, YWAM Kiev's houseboat, the mist is so thick.

I study the mist over the river for a few minutes and slowly, I see them. Dark forms emerging out of the clouds. There they are. The eternal ice fishermen. Greedy for fish and disregarding the melting ice, thick fog, and drizzling morning rain, these men sit out there all day. They're the main constant in our lives these days. Any time you look out the window, rain or shine, morning to night, there they are. And it seems, the thinner the ice gets, the more of them flock to the sport, and they gather in tighter groups as if just to tempt the ice to break. I don't understand it, but I don't think they understand either, since they're so warmed by their ever present vodka. But you don't have to understand it, you just smile and nod.