Skip to content

Mountains · Snow · The natural world

Google Translate

Choose your language

MenuExplore Snow

Lake Superior Ice Stacking: Dawn LaPointe’s Duluth Shoreline Film

Share this story
FacebookWhatsApp
More
TelegramXEmail

Lake Superior can sound like a cupboard full of glass when its ice starts moving. In Dawn M. LaPointe’s film from Duluth, thin plates gather along the shore in a shifting jumble of translucent edges. It is an absorbing winter scene, especially with the sound turned on.

Thin blue-white lake ice plates piled together along Lake Superior’s shore
Overlapping plates give this Duluth ice-stacking scene its glass-like appearance. Credit: Dawn M. LaPointe / Radiant Spirit Gallery.

Where the Lake Superior ice-stacking video was filmed

LaPointe, of Radiant Spirit Gallery, recorded the footage at Brighton Beach in Duluth, Minnesota, on 13 February 2016. Her original upload and filming notes describe sheets of lake ice moving toward the shoreline, breaking into plates and accumulating at the edge.

She had first noticed ice drawing away from shore at Canal Park. Anticipating what the moving sheets might do elsewhere, she headed to Brighton Beach. That choice makes the story more interesting: recognising movement on the lake helped her find a place to observe the next part of the process.

How the plates pile up

Wind can move floating ice across a lake. When sheets meet an obstruction such as the shore, the advancing ice can fracture, overlap and accumulate. LaPointe records sustained southwesterly winds before this particular event. The glass-like appearance comes from the thin, angular plates and the way light passes through their edges.

For a wider view of wind-driven movement, the National Weather Service documents a separate Lake Michigan event using a webcam and satellite imagery. Its account shows why the position of lake ice can change substantially within a day.

The familiar phrase “frozen waves” describes the impression, but ice stacking is the more useful name here. The sequence shows already-formed ice moving and breaking; it does not show waves suddenly freezing into place.

Is the footage sped up?

No: LaPointe explicitly states that the clips play at normal speed. The roughly two-minute film combines excerpts from about two hours of recording. It compresses the event by selecting moments, while preserving the speed within those moments.

That distinction is easy to miss when a natural process moves faster than expected. Listen for the changing rhythm as the plates meet. The sound adds a sense of weight and contact that a still photograph cannot provide.

Enjoy the view from stable ground

Moving shoreline ice is best appreciated from a secure viewing position on land. A pile of plates does not tell you whether the water beneath it is frozen solid, and its shape can change as more ice arrives. Resist climbing onto it for a closer photograph.

For another side of freshwater ice, explore Lake Baikal’s winter ice photographs. To compare lake ice with ice that began on land, visit our iceberg photography story. Similar blues and sharp shapes can have very different origins.

For a different kind of moving winter material, watch Christian Mermoud’s dense avalanche in Valais, where trees reveal the force of the snow.

Listen for the separate stages of a moving ice sheet

The sound is part of what makes this sequence so absorbing. Instead of a single splash, the scene involves many small contacts as plates meet, shift and accumulate. Watching an edge while listening makes it easier to connect the visible movement with the breaking and scraping that accompany it. The resemblance to glass comes from both the appearance and the sound.

The account links the movement to wind acting on ice that had separated from the shore. Calling it an “ice tide” can obscure that explanation by suggesting an ordinary tidal cycle. The relevant story here is moving lake ice arriving at a constrained edge, where it cannot continue across the ground as an intact sheet.

Follow one translucent plate until it meets the growing accumulation, then shift attention to the pile as a whole. The first view reveals edges and small movements; the second shows the quantity of material arriving at a constrained shore. LaPointe's normal-speed excerpts make both scales available without turning the process into a time-lapse. The sound helps connect them, as many small contacts become a continuous sequence of breaking and scraping. That combination explains the film's appeal while leaving the active shoreline a place to observe from secure ground, rather than climb into for a similar perspective.

Share this story
FacebookWhatsApp
More
TelegramXEmail

1 comment

  1. This blog stands out as one of the most detailed and comprehensive I've come across. Please keep it current

    ReplyDelete