Abstract puddle

This morning I wandered up the hill in a blizzard, the dogs disappearing as they charged around in the falling snow.
A walk up to Wasdale later was far more pleasant, though bitterly cold. The ice on the puddles still thick enough to amuse Talisker as he stomped through it.
The dogs and I are looking forward to having the wifeycle back home again tomorrow after a run of nightshifts.

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