“The quality of cold is not strain’d, it droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven” . . . oh, wait, no, that’s mercy. Not cold. This is something different all together.
It is SO COLD. I’m not really complaining. (Well, maybe a little.) The thing is, once it gets below -10 or so, it sort of all feels the same to me. I bundle up, and walk outside my door, braced for 28 below with a 45-below wind chill, and I think, “Huh. That’s not really that bad, all things considered.”
But here’s what I think is funny. When you’ve lived in a cold climate for a while, you get so that you can actually tell how cold it is by the way the snow sounds when you step on it. At these recent temperatures, it sounds kind of squeaky, almost like stepping on Styrofoam. It makes crunchy, squeaky noises with every step. That’s when you know it’s not only cold, it’s what even we Scandinavians might call Damn Cold.
At this point they’re predicting mid-20s for the weekend, which will feel absolutely balmy. Maybe I’ll even start looking at some seed catalogs (which are arriving daily in the mail, believe me).
Since I have no photograph for “cold,” but I hate to write a blog entry without a photograph, I’m going to leave you with a shot of my amaryllis. I think it’s appropriate that there’s darkness out the window, because it seems like it’s dark all the time. But it can only get better, right?