Call it faith or call it winter on Martha’s Vineyard: Undeterred by the dwindling and disappearance of my first foray into dog dish ice art, I started working on Ice Art II.

The first disk was undished on Groundhog Day. We have no groundhogs on Martha’s Vineyard. Voles, being too small to escape the shade of the tall grass they burrow in, rarely see their shadows even when the sun is out, and so far no one has dared to ask a skunk to play groundhog. The sun was clearly shining through ice disk #1, so I predicted that spring wasn’t here yet. A week later, a massive blizzard hit New England and proved me right.

Snow added texture to the disk. The absence of snow added mystery to the deck. Posted on Facebook, the photo on the right elicited a range of guesses, among them a prehistoric tennis ball, a hole from the Yellow Submarine, a black and white cookie with the icing licked off, Jupiter, an eclipse, a canteen cover, and a hockey puck. I thought it looked like the business part of an outhouse. Cut the wood out and you’d see gravel about 10 feet down.

After four days, Kong had a quartet to conduct. Temps close to freezing and direct sunlight created translucence and, early on, a hole. I didn’t try to move these guys around.

Lest the disks forget where they came from, their incubator makes an appearance. Dish, disk, or Kong, everyone gets dusted with snow.

Kong takes a bow with the sextet.

A last glimpse of the Seven Sisters. Kong, having heard that bad weather was incoming, has retreated inside.

Ice Art I was dwindled by the power of sun. Ice Art II was interred by the power of snow, augmented by shovel. Let their photos be their legacy. Will there be an Ice Art III? Watch this space.