6am, 5 degrees

you think you will feel it right away. that there's a distinct and painful difference between temperatures on the fahrenheit scale with two numbers, such as 75 or 23, and temperatures with only one number. for instance, 5. you think your soul will freeze when you step into that sort of atmosphere. you think birds will shatter and fall from the sky and trees will split their limbs open from the pain of it. you think you will know.

this is not what happens at all. you step outside and the morning is just starting to push up from the ground. you can see that long strip of it at the horizon, clinging there, catching its breath before struggling all the way up. it is more difficult cold mornings for that weak paleness to accomplish anything. the five am sky is so much darker and so much heavier.

but the sun crawls up over the lip of the world a little and you are up and the small dog is running on shivering toes through the tire track in the driveway to find a space in the snow packed low enough to pee on. you are wrapped in wool, in alpaca, hat, sweater, scarf, mittens. your boots are surprisingly soundless. you wait for the cold to slither into your nose and grab you by the brain and squeeze. you wait. the dog searches for just the right spot and you realize there must be some horrible mathematical computation going on in his head figuring out where where where. seconds go by. your lungs keep breathing. you
are suspicious of this. can humans really breathe in 5 degrees and live to tell about it? you wonder about the potential for brain damage. like from breathing paint fumes. there must be a name for this. brain freeze has been taken by the slurpee/icee drinking community. you think something greek. something latin. cerebellum frigidus. this will not catch on. you know it but consider trying anyway.

instead of anything, nothing happens. the dog finally figures out his math problem and trots back toward the door. your lungs are warm and airy. your brain remains unfrozen. the sun pours out a pinky orange warmth that does not reach you but you are glad for the attempt. you have not been out long. you go inside, make some tea, sit in front of the fire. the temperature outside has dropped since you came in. 2.6. you will wait, you think, for the minus degrees.