Of all the trees that are in the wood, the holly bears the crown.
[Afternoon of Monday, June 7 (day 372)]
[Down on the Pontarlier]
...well I was certainly not expecting this, I must say.
I could wonder, or I could fuss, but it comes to me that when such weather strikes, some actions are more appropriate than others. So I dress as warmly as I need to, find something appropriate to wear (shaped and painted leather, the colours of warm oak and berries, and thin brass tags at one temple), and set out to town. The air smells of evergreen and snow, and is full of the squeaking crunch of snow under boots and slightly confused laughter. I make my way through a light peppering of snowballs in the park, and head down to the river.
I wouldn't think it was cold enough to freeze, but the ice seems quite solid. Someone is sharing out or selling mulled cider; I'm not exactly sure as I didn't actually speak to them, but a young woman handed me her cup when a friend called her over, and it's very good.
I don't have skates, but I head out onto the ice, take a few quick steps for speed, and manage not to lose my balance or bang into anyone. The tags on my mask are jingling a little, and I'm laughing as I go sliding out across the Pontarlier.
Vive le vent, vive le vent,
Vive le vemps d'hiver...
[Open! (don't slip)]
[Down on the Pontarlier]
...well I was certainly not expecting this, I must say.
I could wonder, or I could fuss, but it comes to me that when such weather strikes, some actions are more appropriate than others. So I dress as warmly as I need to, find something appropriate to wear (shaped and painted leather, the colours of warm oak and berries, and thin brass tags at one temple), and set out to town. The air smells of evergreen and snow, and is full of the squeaking crunch of snow under boots and slightly confused laughter. I make my way through a light peppering of snowballs in the park, and head down to the river.
I wouldn't think it was cold enough to freeze, but the ice seems quite solid. Someone is sharing out or selling mulled cider; I'm not exactly sure as I didn't actually speak to them, but a young woman handed me her cup when a friend called her over, and it's very good.
I don't have skates, but I head out onto the ice, take a few quick steps for speed, and manage not to lose my balance or bang into anyone. The tags on my mask are jingling a little, and I'm laughing as I go sliding out across the Pontarlier.
Vive le vent, vive le vent,
Vive le vemps d'hiver...
[Open! (don't slip)]