Slick as a Whistle

As if the bone-chilling weather wasn't bad enough recently, as soon as the temperature rose, the freezing rain came, coating everything in a layer of ice.  There were reports of vehicles sliding off of roadways, semi-trucks overturned and people breaking bones from slipping on the slick surfaces.  Larry and I sat indoors during the recent freezing rain episode, listening to it pelt the windows.  The next day, we ventured out, temperatures still warm, our feet crunching on the sidewalks as the ice sheets cracked under the pressure of our feet. Several times over the past couple of weeks, I've wondered what makes me want to stay in such a rugged climate where the weather can seem downright mean sometimes.  Yet, in the winter, I get to move inward without guilt, allowing myself more time for rest, for thinking, for dreaming.  Perhaps ol' man winter isn't so mean after all.