I never thought I would feel warm at -6 degrees Celsius

Well, not warm exactly. But less cold. And somewhat relieved to be in air that doesn't painfully sting the skin.

As a child in India reading the Narnia books, I never fully comprehended the horror of the White Witch's curse - always winter and never Christmas. But that's what this January has felt like, as immured in the home, office or car I stare through the windows at the bleak tundra without.

Granted, the winter has had some moments such as the treacherous beauty of driving through snow, a moving snow-globe in a silent white world where tires feel unsteady on the suddenly frictionless tarmac, slippery and textured at the same time.

Or the rare bright day when the sheets of snow have a crystalline sparkle, and pale tree skeletons draw starkly lovely patterns against the austere blue of the sky.

And as the days lengthen slightly into February, I have seen a few of those.

But mostly, its been gloomy days of monochromatic landscapes, dull white skies with their suggestion of grey, dense fogs, and long dark night drives through freezing rain.

The frozen Hudson preserves none of its summer loveliness, with scabrous sheets or unsightly pieces of ice.

All in all, I can't wait to see the first daffodils.