When I was a kid, I would go outside with my best freind on a cold winter Saturday and head straight for the sand pits. The slopes were long, steep, and covered in fresh, powdery snow. The first run would plow snow out of the way. The next runs would pack it down. Then it was go as fast as gravity would accelerate you to, which was so fast that you weren't stopping until you got to the bottom, even if you bailed off of the plastic tobbogan.
That first run, when you were plowing snow, would blast snow at your body and make your whole face hurt, litterally. It would just make your cheeks and forhead ache. Your lips would quit working right and you began to talk a little funny. Then everything woudl go numb and you'd be good for the day.
Today, walking a short twenty yards or so, accross an open parking lot, my face began to hurt, like it did when I was a boy on a cold Saturday. The air temp, according to my car's thermometer, was seven degrees F. The wind is howling, throwing snow sideways accross the lot so that it melts instantly on any exposed skin. We have an honest blizzard going on right now, with cold winds and lots of snow. And somehow, when I get home, I have to get up the nerve to shovel my driveway, knowing that about the time I get done, the plow will come by and bury it again.
When the temperature reads 10, I don't yet feel the cold. At 0, I'm beginning to feel a nip in the air. But a blizzard with 7 degree, blowing snow and air is just cold. So says Chief Longwind of the North.
Seeeeeya; Chief Longwind of the North