it's been a cold week of biking. i haven't missed a day. so temps between minus twenty six and minus thirty four celsius are becoming par for the course.
strategies to manage the cold and its effects are including coffee, excellent winter ale from granville island off the west coast of british columbia, tasty spicy food and zydeco music from new orleans. . . here's a fun example . . .
[month of] january it freezes- all across a soundless sky the birds go home. the governing dark's begun: the steadfast dark that waits not for a sun; the undefeated enemy, the chill that shall benumb the voiceful earth at last, is master of our moment, and has bound the viewless wind it-self. There is no sound. it freezes. every friendly stream is fast. it freezes; and the graven twigs are still.
time is engraved on the pale green faces of the floating lotus leaves. our hearts are a sea, a lake, finally a little pond, where spider webs interlock over the round leaves, and below them our longing is only a single drop of dew.
he ate and drank the precious words – his spirit grew robust – he knew no more that he was poor; nor that his frame was dust – he danced along the dingy days and this bequest of wings was but a book – what liberty a loosened spirit brings –