So I was surprised to see ice on puddles at the mouth of the Ridge Trail, at under 100 metres above sea level. Just there, and nowhere else.
|On the gravel road, a mini-puddle, with frozen maple leaves.|
|In each puddle, the ice takes on different forms, makes unique patterns. Here, the puddle is about two inches deep, on mixed grass and weeds beside the trail.|
|On green grass, weeds, with fallen maple leaves. Curvy fracture lines.|
A few metres farther on, the trail enters the shelter of the forest. No ice here. Everything is dripping wet and waiting for the next rain shower.