Winter checks in. I look out.
200 km above the Arctic Circle, December, -37°C outside, +37°C inside
Every day, all day, I work outside.
Winter's cold eats into me, stays.
My movements slow, reduced, carefully considered but always.
My thinking diffuse, a snow cloud.
I crystallize, imbued with winter, confronted with myself.
In breaks, in the warmth, a pause, silent contemplation through the separating membrane between Winter and me.