Why is it so satisfying to break the ice layer that forms over puddles during cold nights? It’s like Amélie shoving her hand into a bin of beans.

Maybe it’s the fun of breaking molecular bonds with the clean knife precision of cracks. It’s also the rarity of opportunity. The visual, auditory, and tactile senses have only a few weeks of the year to be gifted with puddle ice layer breakage stimulation.

The water took its revenge on me about 20 meters later. I slipped on the ice and fell flat on my back. I remained lying on the ground a few moments, letting the disorientation fade, collecting myself, allowing the cold, dirty puddle water to soak my shirt. When you’re dancing with gravity, nothing else matters.