My friend didn't exactly dare me to do it. 'Twas more of a suggestion. So I slipped out of my fuzzy robe, opened the balcony slider and stepped out into it, bare feet on ice, bare everything else (though I did leave my hat on) doing a polar bear dance. It was 17 degrees at the time. I leaned over the balcony rail and took a deep breath of fresh, clean air. The only sound was the wind rattling the ice trees. A clattering whoooooosh.
It was exhilerating. Thank you friend -- for the suggestion! I didn't take a picture as proof. I documented the experience because I take photos of everything and because I wanted to be able to look later see my foot pushing through the thin layer of ice, down into the powder, down into that glittering crystalline place where simple joys are discovered.