The walks I am taking in the morning now require that I bundle up to stay warm. It was 18 degrees (F) when I went out a couple of days ago. It requires long johns and insulated pants and shoes and gloves and hat, and even with all that it is a struggle to keep my fingers warm enough.
Our pond is partly frozen. There’s a buried pipe, where runoff water from a spring above splashes into the pond year-round, and the splashes from that little waterfall have frozen into a chaotic ice sculpture. Every blade of grass and leaf is coated with ice. It’s lovely:


(Click to see larger image)
We lost our household water supply to frozen pipes for a couple of days, but everything thawed out yesterday and we are now back to having water again.
We soaked up as much sun as we could today — it was a very simple pleasure.
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