Reservoir in January

This afternoon I don my mud boots and a hoodie, making for the reservoir.
Fishermen grin their greetings and I nod back, smiling.
Sun shines bright upon the water and, amazingly, I feel its warmth through my jeans!
Along the path, a dog pulls his man, and three on horseback pass me by, their k9s following with tongues and tails awag.
My eyes are drawn to movement of a feather on the ground.... then three, four, five, many more; goose down and pinfeathers create an impromtu memorial for the fallen fowl. Tasty meal for cat or coyote or DOG! A small blonde mat with some black streaking through; must have been the goose's dying trophy.
I stop to take in the lake's beauty and breathe deeply.
Dry dead leaves still thick on the small trees rattle in the breeze...that breeze creating ripples which pass by. Illusion it is I moving, not the water.
Then a higher pitched peeping sort of rattle...... the skim of ice as the lake laps up and under, making it's way to the spillway, then over.
Breathtaking ice sculpture.....ice coats reeds and weeds near the shore where current has retreated, leaving frozen glistening art........ reminds me of that ice palace Superman shared with Lois Lane.
Great flock of geese honking boistrously while gliding over frigid water, settling on the waves for one last bask before sunset.
Boots creaking on soggy soil, I cannot walk silently as with summer's bare feet. Birds fly up from rushes and brambles long before I reach them, tweeting and twittering as I come near and then pass under their perches.
I'm wanting a camera, but am resigned that words shall be my snapshots today.
The last fisherman is packing up his gear as I head home, January's sunset reflected in my eyes.