These pictures were taken yesterday in the woods behind the house. There are many exciting stories I could tell about the things I had to go through to take them, like crawling through barbed wire, but I won’t. I’m not even sharing the pictures I got thanks to crossing that particular barrier; they’re stupid. But surviving that brush with death made me bold, so instead of tiptoeing around the seemingly frozen stream like it was a sleeping giant, fully eight inches deep and packing an ice cold punch that would pummel me with its frozen brass rings, I daringly stepped onto the ice. It held! I was off to the races. (Sorry for mixing so many metaphors.) (I have a cold-ridden brain crusted with zinc deposits; nothing I say counts.)
A little bit of context: the stream itself on the edge of the property. I didn’t notice it at the time, but looking at this picture it appears to be full winter to the left of the stream, autumn to the right.
There was an amazing variety of patterns in the ice.