My lunch hour stroll was not at all the pleasant experience it was yesterday. This is the trouble with unseasonably warm days in the middle of winter, and make no mistake, we’re still in the middle of winter. I kept catching sight of the sun shining out the window and remembering what a lovely walk I had the day before, so that by the time lunch hour rolled around I was really jazzed to get up from my desk and stretch my legs as I headed up the path by the river to Jenifer Street.

As soon as I stepped out the door to walk up Washington Ave, though, I knew this was not going to be the same heartwarming experience I had the day before. The sun was out, sure, but the temps were not all that warm and there was a wind stiff enough to strip my hat off my head if I didn’t keep one hand on it. Few things make you feel dumb-looking the way walking around the neighborhood with your hand on your head will do, unless you’re patting your head while trying to rub your belly. Then you feel rock-stupid.

As I turned under the bridge along the Yahara River I got a blast of cold air that kept right on blasting. The walkway was funneling the wind efficiently enough to make a Nasa aerodynamicist break down and cry. I didn’t want to wimp out, though, so I pressed on, thinking the wind would let up on the other side of the bridge, and then when I got into the shelter of the trees and buildings along Willy Street it would break up entirely.

It did not, but by that time I was so far along my route that it didn’t make any sense to turn back, and there was still that wimp thing to consider. Walking up Jenifer Street wasn’t so bad but heading back to work down Baldwin Street and up Washington Ave was torture, like having ice knives slashing at my face. Ice knives! Pretty descriptive, huh? I just came up with that.

Back at the office I made myself a cup of tea and drank it boiling. I’m still not feeling warm, though.