The mercury tipped 27° F.
It’s the fifth day of Spring. Spring. Right.
It was one of those March days when the sun shines hot and the wind blows cold: when it is summer in the light, and winter in the shade. (Dickens)
The only thing Dickens got right in this passage was the book title: Great Expectations, and mine for the weather.
It was one of those March days when the sun doesn’t shine at all and the wind blows cold: when it is winter in the light, it is winter in the dark and it is winter in the shade. (DK)
It’s 5:45 am. I’m standing on the platform with a handful of others. The remaining commuters wait for the 5:57 train in the warming station.
But not me. No Sir. I refuse to cede my place at the front of the not-yet-formed line. Close to memory are my last two rides — unable to find a seat, I stood the entire 55 minute ride. Technical correction: there was an unwillingness, a steadfast refusal to sit in the middle seat. Just not an option. I need my space.
I board the train. I’m the first on, my wait paying off. I find an empty two-seater and sit next to the window. I settle in and start into the morning papers. The warm air from a vent caresses my feet and legs. It’s going to be a good day. [Read more…]