There are several times each summer that I’m tempted to go into the pond – literally into the water. And usually, it’s not the heat of the day pushing me in as much as the clear water enticing me. I’ve never mustered the nerve. I think the lingering memory of goose poop and other pond muck floating on the spring surface, as well as the fear of snapping turtles and water snakes, kills the enticement.

I’m not sure how I’ve walked around the pond for nearly five full winters and today, for the first time, I had the urge to walk across it, through snow and on ice. Until today, the winter pond had not enticed me to step out onto it.

The photo above is a portrait of me and my faithful, if erratic, walking companion. This photo is marking the time and place of our arrival at the middle of the pond. The dog’s name is Sprite. He’s an eleven year-old cockerpoo and is still very much like a puppy. I’ve mentioned him before in this blog and a couple of times included his picture. Generally, our walks around the pond are filled with frustrating fits and starts — as I have a fit when he won’t get started again after an instinctive impulse to stop and sniff, which occurs about every four paces.
But today we got a good groove going once we were out on the pond. As you see above, Sprite is blazing the trail. Perhaps that’s the key, to take him where there is precious little to sniff.

Still, he did enough burrowing that his fur was matted with snow by the time we got home nearly an hour after we left the house.

The picture above shows our carefree, wandering fun. We’d stop for a photo, or to, as the photo below shows, dig a little in the snow to see how deep it was and to get a photo of the surface of the ice.

Of course to curious Sprite, my foot clearing the ice was a curious thing, something to investigate, as you see below.

And, it appears that he surmised I’d cleared a perfectly sized place for him to stand.

Other animals cross the pond and leave a more practiced path than Sprite and I.

Once back on shore, it was nice to look back as the long low shadows of winter streaked the snow-covered pond behind the tips of shore scrub.

Below, cattails somehow stay upright through winter winds.

A wide trail of snowshoeing tracks mark the pond where weekend visitors passed through.

I can’t speak for Sprite but I know the new perspective I have on the winter pond will give me fresh thoughts and, I hope, pleasant dreams.