When winter really hits, we are on a different planet. The landscape changes completely. Traveling and outside motion involves a new set of equations. With no clouds in the sky, every last bit of warmth vaporizes into outer space. It is usually dark outside.
This is our planet with the veneer pried off. Look at all those stars, distant furnaces blasting away into the night. By the time their light reaches us, it is only an icy gasp, a breath of death. On nights like this, many a deer out in those woods will lay down and give up the ghost. (Not us. Down in the basement, the zone valves are stuck open again, sending scalding hot water coursing through the radiators, heedless of the thermostat’s guidance.)