It is with my imagination that I can recreate mental images
of wild turkeys running about the snow-covered woods. I can envision deer wandering between the
trees searching for tidbits, just as I see them from my chair in the den.
I need not imagine the cold, as I can feel it seeping in
between tiny cracks and crevices, I know it penetrates the flimsy glass windows
and it easily gets in around the big sliding glass door.
What I want to know is why?
Why does the cold try so hard to come inside? What’s the point? Warmth and cold are not like magnets,
attracting each other. One isn’t rubber
and one glue…
So just what does warmth have that cold wants so badly that
it keeps trying to get in?
OK, after some very technical thought, that is, the thoughts
were not technical, but rather the technical aspects of warm and cold, I’ve
come up with a hypothesis.
I believe shade is the link.
In other words, light and shadow affect cold and warm. Warm seems to prosper in the bright sunlight,
while I always seem to find cold huddled in dark basements, and under big oak
trees, where the sun isn’t.
So, because I’m here inside, under the roof of my house
where there is an abundance of shade, the cold thinks it’s supposed to be in
here with me.
Little does it know, houses are the exception to the rule.
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