It’s odd when the lake freezes.  It loses its reflections and depth and looks like any old snow-covered flat surface, and all of a sudden everyone is walking across it instead of around the edge.  The other day a skier zoomed down the hill, started across the lake, and disappeared.   The one who had seen the incident called the emergency services.  A helicopter came; from my living room window I saw it going downwards, lights flashing, and then hovering a few metres over the lake surface.  But it was all a mistake; no one had fallen through the ice.  There was no skier, except in the imagination of the caller.

Below, you can see there’s more snow than there is in the picture I took last week.  This one was taken at about two pm this afternoon,

but even at midday the sun is quite low and the shadows long.

The gate to the dog run is chained shut and padlocked.  Poor old Topsy and the other dogs can’t understand why they aren’t allowed in, nor can the owners.  I know where there’s a hole in the fence.  Besides, we could get in simply by walking over the lake.  Nobody does, though.  Not so far.  We might try tomorrow.