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It was 25°F when I headed out for my walk this morning. The pond was frozen over, but one little patch by the reeds still remained swimmable, as a lone duck was paddling about. Tonight it is supposed to get even colder.

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I made my way down to the edge of the water to look at the ice. I’m always fascinated seeing how it forms. This was a contrast of angles and rough edges. It was almost feathered in some spots. I love peering at things under the ice as well. One Christmas in Denmark, we were out for a stroll and I noticed that someone had dropped a bit of a tangerine peel in a small dip in the street. The water that was resting in that dip had frozen over and the peel lay underneath. You could see crystals around it’s edges, almost like sugar. There was a beauty to it, frozen underneath the blueish coloured ice. I never photographed it. I wish that I had. I think of it often. A strange thing to think of I know, but there was a quality to the light that day and a beauty to what lay beneath our feet.

I ran errands during lunch and treated myself to a gingerbread hot chocolate. Happiness is…

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