On the farm, this happens quite a lot. Oftentimes after the first big freeze there are hundreds of these frozen puddles which my brothers and I stomp on with merciless pleasure. These are sounds that resonate with the good times I've spent with my brothers and my dog, and they're sounds I'll remember when I look back on the days of yore, the days when snow and ice existed in southwestern ontario.
Plus it's so darn satisfying.
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