There are no cars in view but I do hear them occasionally whirring their slow way up Piedmont Ave. You never know how hilly Atlanta is until you try to walk a familiar street in August or drive it over ice. The intersection of Piedmont and Baker-Highland, just above, is almost pure snow still, because no one's had the nerve (thank God) to attempt the even steeper climb west toward Peachtree or the east slide.
Yet there are patches of ground and, for some, the need to move. The sight of a bundled man and his balanced bags of groceries (evidently Publix on Piedmont/North is open) sliding down against this feather weight of a runner heading up as if he knew where each slip was and could avoid it so surely did he advance moved me from mockery to poetry. Well, it moved me to the keyboard.
Here I sit, plenty of work to do, few cookies to eat, no butter in the freezer for more. I really didn't take this freeze warning as seriously as I should have, not if I wanted uninterrupted carbohydrates and fresh fruit, which, now that I can't have them, I really really do.
Time to work! Finishing up a website project that has taken many hours longer than I thought it would and debating over changing my syllabus or waiting to see if we have classes tomorrow.