The sun reflecting off the snow creates an illuminating brilliance shining through my window that is deceptive. It seems to say the weather is fine come on out and play. Old bones are not easily fooled. They know that beneath that sunshine is a world struggling to pass zero in the still places. They also know the wind is by nature noisy and seldom completely quiet for long. On such days as these, even a gentle breeze is felt keenly and a gust brings a gasp of pain. In younger ages there is a toleration, at least that is the way I remember it. At some point our forbearance of winters crueler temperatures reaches an apex and declines quickly. The cold lingers and its memory is feared longer. Many of the people I know head to warmer climates. In the end, it is all a matter of degree or in this case, quit a few.