Awesome photo. In Indiana, in my youth, we would take sleds with jury-rigged sails out onto those huge mid-western reservoirs. A frozen lake is a gift.
-18°F in my little Adirondack foothill village this a.m., -25°F a bit further north, where I have some hardwood forest.
Spent a few hours up there this a.m. with some loggers buying hard maple and black cherry timber from me--they were mildly surprised to see this under-dressed, downstater-transplant so cheery in the chill.
Little did they know that kind of temp is like an ice pack on my poor trauma and arthritis riddled back: I haven't felt that good in ages. I even turned off my neurostimulator.
Maybe, when I'm really old (you know, like jar and ringo), I'll go sleep in the sun...
Naw. I'm not giving up winter. I'll just hire more bed warmers.
"If you can keep your head while those around you are losing theirs, you can collect a lot of heads."