It was the boy, Jakob, who saw it first, as he skipped across the bridge on his way to school. A flutter of red cloth at the edge of the breaking ice, as the water in the slowly thawing river began to flow. He remembered that his classmate Mikkel had lost his scarf in a gust of wind, crossing the bridge some months earlier. He would show him on the way home. Perhaps they might even be able to recover it from its watery resting place.