Frozen

There was a little break in the snowfall, and the gritters seem to have managed to clear the roads, and so the car service that had been put off last week was due today.

Of course, I didn't think about the state of the paths and really I should have - particularly as I fell on the ice yesterday in spectacular fashion. I slipped and went over, but stupidly managed to fall on the corner of our neighbours small wall. The bricks in the wall are jolly unforgiving and it bloody hurt. I managed to wince home and shut the front door before bursting into floods of tears, but even that hurt. Husband says I have a cracking bruise on my back and he's surprised I didn't break a rib - that's due to my protective squishy coating, I knew it'd be useful someday!

Anyhows, I forgot about the state of the paths and so we decided to amble into town, having left the car at the garage, and chose the towpath as the least slippy option. The 5 minute walk took the best part of 45 minutes and not just because I was very gingerly walking. I stopped to watch the men dredging the canal, their boat listing at an incredibly angle, and forming the most incredible geometric shapes in the broken ice. I stopped to take numerous shots of the ice too, and this was the one I went with.

Why? Well in spite of all the natural beauty that the view affords us (and here's an almost similar, but unfrozen shot), we as a human race have managed to defecate it with our rubbish that we've 'lobbed' on to the ice to see if it'll break.