It’s back!

The cold, that is. Yesterday morning, I was enjoying a fine, brisk morning walk through Chelsea, a neighborhood of the Big Apple I rarely ever go through. In the afternoon, I popped up out of a subway hole to find the sky spitting something, big, cold, wet and frequent onto me. The wind was howling when I got into the train station parking lot, wondering where my hat is. And as I woke a few minutes ago, my thermometer said -12.2 degrees F. You can love nature, but never forget that it’s actively trying to kill you.