I spent a good part of last week in Minnesota. Business took me there. Those of you who have been following my blog for a while know I would never have gone to Minnesota at this time of year of my own accord.
Cold stalks the cities and forests of that state like a living thing. The inhabitants of Minnesota seem to have reconciled themselves to the danger, but as a visitor I couldn't help but be aware of the threat of death by freezing.
The cold reaches through plate glass windows and tickles the back of your neck even when the thermostat inside of a building is set for seventy-two or higher. Once beyond the shelter of four walls, howling winds drive the cold deep inside layer after layer of clothing, leaving you feeling naked to the world.
Early morning light has a frozen quality to it, as though - if struck- the light would shatter and darkness would once again extend icy fingers. Sun, high noon sun, offers the promise of warmth and relief for no more than three hours a day.
My experiences in the far northern climes affirmed the appropriateness of my naming this period of the year the season of nightmare.
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