It's -7 this morning (up from an overnight low of -8). That's -22 for you Celsius folks out there . . . In other words, satisfyingly, gratifyingly cold. By the standards of any of my known readers, even you Canucks.

Readers in the southern hemisphere may not know that the snow at this temperature almost becomes something else. It no longer seems like frozen water; it begins to seem like it wouldn't ever melt. With snow a consistency somewhere between powdered sugar and styrofoam, the back yard takes on the appearance of a desert: In a desert, when you make tracks, they stay for a very, very long time. Side streets are very, very slippery, especially at stop signs because the repeated pressure of car tires moving a car from a full stop turn the snow to ice, and at these temperatures, the ice is polished smooth as glass. (A few years ago I fell on my bike commuting to work in conditions like these - as I was pulling away from a stop sign. A very gentle fall.)

We're at the lower end of the temperature range for houses (or at least this house) in this climate: The cold is beginning to seep through the walls. A few more days of this and it would be really noticeable. But it's not going to stay this cold all day; the high today is 8, and tomorrow we're creeping up to 9. By Friday we'll see 19, which will feel like a heat wave.

So I'm going to enjoy this weather while it lasts. Weather like this invariably makes me think, "Oh, god! Global warming! We have to stop it!!" Of course, it has the exact opposite effect on most of my compatriots - which is the problem, eh? Algae blooms and melting polar ice are abstractions to people, whereas 7 below and cold coming in the walls is all too real . . . and most people would be happy if they never experience those conditions again . . .