Feet cosy in fur lined boots crunching across rock hard ground.
Ice has formed around the edges of 3 large puddles, one has a pool of water in the middle surrounded by thin ice with circular cracks running around, the tip of by boot makes a thin tinkling sound as I gently tap.
Looking down the hill track, a solitary tiny figure in a blue frost landscape wearing a bright red coat, following the contour of the river.
Bit of that
I live in that solitude which is painful in youth, but delicious in the years of maturity.
(Albert Einstein 1921)
Bang on the nail I reckon.
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