That last post went out without the picture, and the name of the lake is Lac St. Francois, in Lambton.

Guess that tune:

Everybody’s talkin at me, I don’t hear a word they’re saying, only the echoes of the ice.

People stop and starin, I can’t see their faces, just the shadow of the ice.

I’m going where the sun keep shinin, through the blowing snow. Going north where the weather suits my clothes.

Peeling off with the ice cold wind,
Sailin on a winter breeze,
Skippin over the frozen lake
like a leaf.

Everybody’s talkin at me, I don’t hear a word they’re sayin, just the echos of the ice. No, I won’t leave my iceboat
behind.