Today walking was a mix of art and science.

With the temperature slowly rising above freezing the sidewalks were treacherous—sheets of ice in low spots, and mini glaciers sliding down from higher elevations. Even cutting across open ground was difficult—the terra very firma and very rough, with frost-made knobs and protrusions trying hard to turn an ankle.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

January —John Updike

The days are short,
The sun a spark,
Hung thin between
The dark and dark.

Fat snowy footsteps
Track the floor.
Milk bottles burst
Outside the door.

The river is
A frozen place
Held still beneath
The trees of lace.

The sky is low.
The wind is gray.
The radiator
Purrs all day.