There is something elemental about living in the deep-freeze of a Midwestern Winter. Super-cold temps, ice, snow, brutal winds. Everything is hard-edged, brittle. Every step is an adventure. You are one icy catastrophe from catastrophe.You are thrown back into basic Survival Mode. It does give one a richly-earned focus and mission: make it thru the day in one piece. You must be outfitted correctly: thick gloves, heavy boots, layers and layers of fabric, a big-ass hat, a couple of masks, the medical-grade one and then a fleece one over that too. Finally, you are a hulking beast roaming the streets with just your eyes barely peeking out (can't wear your sunglasses, they fog up too easily). The goal: keep all your fingers and toes intact, don't fall down, don't hurt yourself, make it home to a warm meal. There is an upside to this whole scenario, you are reminded that every step counts, sometimes surviving is it's own reward. Making it seems like some kind of prize. We are months from Spring, expect an icy slog ahead, but, you know, the seasons change, no doubt. Hoping to be around to see it.