The title of this post is not a reference to the weather, which is once again frosty. The ice was melting fine until yesterday and now there is frost on the melted bits and ice on the snow and walking is a nightmare.It's a reference to Thoreau's Walden, which I have now finished reading, and which I found I liked much better than I thought I would. I loved the way he got to know the setting of his little hut, not only the neighbours and the wild-life, but the stones and the water - and especially the ice.
I'm having some thoughts about ice myself just now:
The sky opens blue windows
between flat grey shuttered clouds.
A white snow-mist
climbs the blck walls of the hill.
Ice curdled
with half a foot of new snow
chokes the river.
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