the puddles on the street and the walkways are windows to other worlds.
if one looks into them carefully, beyond the grit and silt at the bottom, there are cities and fields, and endless forests and seas, and mysterious realms.
the travel through puddles needs solitude, windless weather, firm belief in reflections and clear idea of the point of destination. then, just a jump, and it is done. however, the return journey is barely researched, and no instructions developed as to how to come back. because none who have gone to their world of reflection, have ever returned, or returned the same.
and also, one can know that the puddles are windows, just by looking at how the ice looks like broken glass. yet i have to say this: when the ice is broken, the seeing through those windows has been destroyed, and puddles are only so much water.