I have a friend is who passionate about ice. Living in Victoria ice on a pond or otherwise is a rare occurrence.
His love for hockey in the outdoors is best shared with the following observation:
Someone has smashed big rocks through the ice. Why would they do that? Think they’re doing it ’cause they saw me yesterday clearing out the junk lodged in the ice?
He had spent a good part of the previous afternoon clearing out a pipes, boards, junk and a shopping cart from the lot in the next block. Just so when it froze again last night the ice would repair itself. It did but now there are fresh wounds. His thoughts, being so strong for ice, immediately lead him to conceive of a conspiracy of vindictiveness.
I really admire this kind of passion.