April 15.
The ice in the Bay of Toronto has been, during the winter months, from
four to five feet in thickness: within the last few days it has been
cracking in every direction with strange noises, and last night, during
a tremendous gale from the east, it was rent, and loosened, and driven
at once out of the bay. "It moveth altogether, if it move at all." The
last time I drove across the bay, the ice beneath me appeared as fixed
and firm as the foundations of the earth, and within twelve hours it has
disappeared, and to-day the first steam-boat of the season entered our
harbour. They called me to the window to see it, as, with flags and
streamers flying, and amid the cheers of the people, it swept
majestically into the bay. I sympathised with the general rejoicing, for
I can fully understand all the animation and bustle which the opening of
the navigation will bring to our torpid capital.
* * * * *
May 19.
This beautiful Lake Ontario!--my lake--for I begin to be in love with
it, and look on it as mine!--it changed its hues every moment, the
shades of purple and green fleeting over it, now dark, now lustrous,
now pale--like a dolphin dying; or, to use a more exact though less
poetical comparison, dappled, and varying like the back of a mackerel,
with every now and then a streak of silver light dividing the shades of
green: magnificent, tumultuous clouds came rolling round the horizon;
and the little graceful schooners, falling into every beautiful
attitude, and catching every variety of light and shade, came curtseying
into the bay: and flights of wild geese, and great black loons, were
skimming, diving, sporting over the bosom of the lake; and beautiful
little unknown birds, in gorgeous plumage of crimson and black, were
fluttering about the garden: all life, and light, and beauty were
abroad--the resurrection of Nature! How beautiful it was! how dearly
welcome to my senses--to my heart--this spring which comes at last--so
long wished for, so long waited for!
* * * * *