On those winter mornings when the darkness of night gives way to yet another gray day, lots of us struggle to get motivated to do anything more active than to pull those covers back over our heads and pretend that we’re bears.
Tomorrow, it could get as low as four degrees in Boston. Four degrees.
It’s hard to wrap your mind around four degrees. Four degrees means that the steam rising from industrial chimneys looks frozen. It means that geese are stuck in the river, their feet trapped under the ice. It means that your face hurts when you smile.