My precious car groans as she starts. The thermometer reads a generous 20 degrees, yet I question if it can truly be that warm. Her engine begins to show signs of life and it as if she has woken up after a long sleep, her aching bones requesting not to be moved. Like stepping out of bed onto the cold ground with joints creaking, so the car reluctantly moans. I know what she would like is that which any cold creature requests on a day such as today, warmth and movement. To be without such is to be on the edge of death. The individual who awakes into such a frigid world hobbles in search of a hot shower allowing the frozen blood to come alive. In the case of Precious, I allow her the same treat, a nice drive to loosen up her insides.
While I drive, my steaming coffee sputters over the lid and lands on the chrome interior. As it hits, I reach to wipe it away, yet I am too slow. It has already turned to ice. Moving further down the road, I notice a brave biker who, with face completely wrapped except for a small slit so they can see, travels in a fashion that I would never be able to do.
The world is covered in an icy blue haze. All is layered with a frosty glaze.
Though I must admit, this ice-laden world, on the last day of January, fills me with life. The cold brisk air cannot do anything but make one feel refreshed. Yes, the biting wind in ones eyes is troublesome, but without the cold day, the glorious sunset would be missed. The radiant display of oranges and pinks in a world that has a blue tint would not be as magnificent.