Chill factor

It's turned bitingly cold once more. I know tradition dictates the weather is more wintry after Christmas than before, but this time conditions seem more frostily potent than usual.

Perhaps it's the onset of that oft-mooted (on here as much as anywhere else) record-breaking Arctic freeze at long last. Maybe it's that everyone forgets what cold weather is really like, emerging from the festive fug enveloped in an extra layer of fat and chirpy indifference. Whatever, venturing out into this kind of chill first thing in the morning is, for me, a wonderful tonic following on from the thankless struggle of having to get out of bed in the pitch black.

At the moment, if I time it right, the sun is just rising as I step out of my front door. To allow my eyes to properly appreciate its selfless seasonal light, and attune my ears to only hear the birds singing reassuringly in the trees around me - well, that's when, for a brief time, I can permit myself to feel that everything's for the best in the best of all possible worlds.