There are some interesting sounds out here. The wind howling, you can even hear the snow blowing along the surface with little tinkles. The pops of a new crack forming. Water lapping up against the side of an open lead. But today were some great sounds. The squeak of a ridge being formed. Sheets pressing against each other, buckling in places, sliding up or down, straining. It moves so slowly, but with such force. At first the edge cannot resist, but then the ridge becomes big enough that it slows the flow, letting out a few last grumbles before it stops.