Icy Future

We have arrived at Thanksgiving in a whirlwind. No time to rest or reconsider our destination, our eyes have become canny tools of quick-search and avoidance. Dizzy from movement, we head out for a walk. Is it still summer, wishful thinker? Or does this brisk air harbor undertones of an icy future? Hugging your blanket around your neck, I red-handedly light fire, say "Isn't this exhilerating?!", bring water to a boil, check your feet for frostbite.