As days start to get longer in the second half of winter, our lake turns into a frozen field with an occasional dot or two moving slowly in the far-away distance.

When I step onto this enormous sheet of ice, an acute feeling of awe arises deep inside me. Islands that seem so secluded at other times of the year are just a short walk away. Soon, I’ll reach one of them and stop to enjoy the beauty of this magnificent landscape.

It's like a painting.

Trudging through this ankle-deep snow with sunshine reflecting on the surface, a deafening silence starts to set in. I get a unique feeling, one I wouldn’t have expected to puzzle and make me contemplate it so much.

With a low humming breeze, and a barely discernable sound of birds singing in the distance, I realize that my mind is clear. It is empty. It is not thinking. There is not a worry or a disturbance, no longing, nor desire. It’s just about being. Here and now.

Even the frosty cold temperature no longer registers my senses.

The sufferings of normal life, both big and small, or trivial or life-alterning, give way to a magnificent, appreciative and an empty existence. A wonderful feeling of oneness – of wholeness.

On the beach of the closest island, I proceed to clear away some snow from the wooden trunk and sit down facing the sun.

By now the dog is off the leash and runs around happily and freely. Soon he sits down right next to me to join in on the silence – and so we enjoy our moment.

Things can get better or worse, but let's not think about it too much right now.

Soon already, we’ll head back over to the mainland.