The cold waffles, nuzzling the outside of my down jacket and insulated pants. I think I’ve confused it, momentarily. It’s a living Thing at these record-breaking temperatures (with a personality and everything). It’s a big, bored Clydesdale, I think, with sharp, enormous hooves and destructive fence-chewing.
It insists. I’ve accommodated it all I can and it still demands. More energy, more fuel, more water.
I walk. Slow, steady, consistent steps- refusing to be hurried.
Afternoon sunlight cuts through the ice fog and frames a snowflake suspended from a flower basket hanger.
The camera's cantata is light-music, shifting perspective, cold-shoeing
winter's horses shake frosty manes
stomp impatient feet
canter away.
