For the first time in two weeks it was neither snowing nor raining and the whole world had turned crisp and twinkling with the star footprints of Jack Frost. The puddles had all frozen into panes of white that are absolutely delightful to smash. Frozen puddle jumping is one of those delightful activities that is so much fun you almost feel guilty about it. I mean, smashing puddles? That sounds almost ominous, like a predilection for violence. The Disreputable Dog, no fool, goes for the deeper puddles where there might still be some water under the freeze and digs himself a fresh drink while I happily clink and clatter through the puddles around him. We gambol our way through the frozen neighborhoods, the water saturated soil crunching delightfully beneath our feet, the streets dark and empty but for ourselves and the occasional rabbit. Sunrise was not until much later - one of the advantages of living at such high latitudes is that at this time of year, although the sun never makes it very high in the sky, there are very prolonged sunrise-sets (see top pic)...sometimes one fades into the other.
A crisp November morning in Newfoundland (2005)
Interestingly the change of seasonal light seems to have a strong effect on the animals as well as the humans. The Disreputable Cat is no longer batting the window shade over my bed two hours before I wake and seems mildly disgruntled that I do get out of bed. The Disreputable Dog likewise will sleep all morning long if my various waking devices don't go off. He only bothers to get up because he figures someone has to get my sorry bum out of bed because that's why I have all those devices going off, right? And then he promptly returns to bed, snoring slightly because he has propped his chin up on the edge of his kennel.