Thoreau writes in his journal:
Water overflowing the ice at an opening in the river, and mixing witli thin snow, saturating it, seen now on one side at right angles with the sun’s direction, is as black as black cloth. It is surprising what a variety of distinct colors the winter can show us, using but few pigments, so to call them. The principal charm of a winter walk over ice is perhaps the peculiar and pure colors exhibited . . .