Nineteen degrees and matching 19.9 mph wind speeds--perfect morning for a walk. With no destination in mind, I just wanted to be part of the weather, i.e. hear the wind, feel the cold. Those who know me well understand that I could literally do either of those from the INside of my home, but there is something to be said about being part of the OUTside day.
I began by lowering my ponytail from the top of my head to my neck. Hair is great insulation, you know, and I wanted to take full advantage. (Absalom and Samson must have been burning up.) Wrapping my hair around my neck is the first step to keeping warm. Next came the once-beautiful hand-knit-by-my-very-own-granddaughter, Morgan, neck scarf. The beauty of that scarf must be referred to in the past tense as it thoroughly disliked being thrown into the dryer. What once was a work of art resembling a rainbow made from millions of tiny threads is now a sad, squished glop of melted yarn. But, looks aren't everything. It keeps me warm.
Next came my heavy black sweater followed by my Jim Whittaker genuine goose down vest. You know Jim Whittaker, right? The "If you aren't living on the edge, you're taking up too much space," Jim Whittaker. That vest, a gift to me from my kids so long ago they probably don't even remember buying it, is magnificently warm. A definite must for climbing Mt. Everest or a walk in the park. Estes Park. The last layer is my extremely sturdy Carhartt jacket. That thing weighs almost 3-1/2 pounds! I wound a fleece scarf loosely around my Carhartt hood in case my face started to freeze.
Along with my hair and an earband, my head enjoyed a lined toque, also knit locally by a dear friend. Toques, also known by the mundane "knit caps" or the more descriptive "burglar beanies," are the extremely popular caps sometimes topped with pom-poms--giving them the endearing name "bobble hat"--and one or more string ties on each side which no one ever ties. Since there is no such thing as a "warm pair of gloves," I selected a fleece-lined pair of leather mittens for my fingers which I prefer to keep from freezing. Perfect. Now I'm ready!
Other than one diehard jogger, I didn't notice anyone else out enjoying the day. More's the pity as it was extremely exhilerating. Breathtaking actually. My toes were the first to go, and no wonder since my left big toe has worn a hole in the top of my shoe. I could have partially alleviated this problem by donning wool socks, but didn't want to delay my departure. Next, and in spite of my leather mittens, went my fingers--especially the ones on my right hand. This could be blamed on frequent time checks using my cell phone and the always-necessary tissue retrieval which can be done only with bare hands.
Walking along, I began to associate the mornings' temperature and wind speeds with two words: "wind chill," a term coined in 1939 by Antarctic explorer Paul Siple when he conducted experiments to determine how quickly water froze. Figuring the wind chill factor or wind chill index is a simple calculation equal to 35.74+(.6215T)-35.75(V.16)+(.4275T)(V.16) where F=fahrenheit, T=temperature and V=wind velocity. Using the temperature, wind speed and the Weather Images website, I calculated the wind chill during my walk at about -9 degrees. After 45 minutes of extreme euphoria sometimes associated with hypothermia, I was able to find my way back to my home on Shady Lane, which was a very good thing since my eyeballs were about to freeze.
Always,
Winter
Wednesday, February 29, 2012
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