The pond in the park is all icy, and the birds (except for the ducks, who don't seem to care) look rather despondent and gloomy, slipping and sliding around on the ice in an incompetent sort of way.

We walked all the way round it yesterday, and Bobby and I noticed, in the very furthest, most remote corner of the lake, a condom frozen into the ice. Which, if one discounts the immense yuck factor, is a fairly impressive tribute to both hardiness and commitment to safe sex.