Today was cold. Yesterday was cold, too. And tomorrow? Also cold. Windchill in the negatives. Biting cold.
Our house and neighborhood seem to be encased in ice. The streets are plowed but are hard-packed with ice and snow. It is easy to imagine that there is no pavement underneath, that the streets are carved out of packed layers of snow on earth. And the cold makes it difficult to imagine that there is anywhere on the planet that is warm or green. When the frigid air is compounded by unrelenting steel grey skies, life kind of tunnels in on itself. Self-preservation via virtual hibernation. It is easy not to think too far beyond the rutted streets and paths I travel with Carmen the dog, or the route to Kate’s school, to my job, to Bruce’s or to the music school. Well-worn paths in snow and ice, interspersed with the bare pavement of highways and this version of civilization.
But there is sun! And blue sky! For two days straight now, and whilst still bitterly cold, that begins to lift me out of my geocentric thoughts, and gives me hope of warmth to come, the promise of which is almost warming in itself, warmth I know friends in certain southern places are quite ready to see go.
I typed all of the above, and before hitting the publish button, I wandered around blogland for a bit, and read Robyn’s Fair Isle. Talk about weather. And this: “The world is turning, changing, living, dying.” Yes, it is. Thanks for the reminder, Robyn. So easy to forget when walking the dog on the tundra this weather has made of our quiet city street, making me think of words like permafrost and wondering if it will ever melt away!