I moved from Washington DC to Rapid City, South Dakota four months ago. Though I spent 23 years in Minnesota, my year in London and four years in DC had softened me. I became weak. In my time of winter purgatory I forgot the feeling of cold, real cold. I forgot the way jeans freeze as you walk around in 0 degree temperature (-18 degrees celsius for our foreign readers). Or how the skin tightens and the cheeks actually become rosy. In five years of dealing with mushy snow, I was delighted to rediscover the squeaky sound of boots walking on deeply cold snow. And with joy I remembered the beauty of cold snow faintly falling, covering the trees and grass in a downy blanket. The cold reminds me that I'm alive.
I remember that good ole' cold feeling well, but isn't it funny when you are sledding or playing a little winter croquet how your body has a way forgetting that deep down cold. I miss those good old times with you my friend. Are there any good sledding hills out your way? If so, go for it! Shep
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