Mulling things on my morning ramble
with Storm, the family's mixed Lab.
You know winter has settled in too well when a morning at 0 degrees with light winds feels, well, bearable.
It did this morning.
So the meathead and I stretched out a good mile ramble. I put the first human tracks on the back side of the town pond. His were not the first animal prints there.
I saw the unmistakable skid marks of an ice shelter on the front side. The multi-lined track crossed the bank between the two old clay pits of the town pond.
So, the first ice fisherman was out some time yesterday.
On the north pond, I could not see where he tried. I assume it was a he. Only once have I seen a woman ice fishing on the town pond.
On the smaller, more used, south pond, I found the set of four holes drilled close together. They were over a deep hole, so he was probably trying for crappie, rather than bluegills or redears.
There were some solid drifts to bust through, just adding ambiance to the ramble. Much of the snow had frozen puddles underneath, making for some interesting steps.
Storm did fine.
I reached my limit on the way back as we reentered town. My face stiffened into a nearly frozen mask with each step. The cold settled into my skull, first numbing, then throbbing.
Winter sets up solidly.

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