Clear blue sky, but the thermometer read 5 degrees and a raw 10 mile-per-hour wind was blowing. We went for a January morning walk anyway. The bite of an Arctic wind on face and hands is our admission fee to witness the beauty of the North Country in winter.



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About Jerry Johnson
Curmudgeon. Bird hunter and dog trainer; indifferent wing shot. Retired journalist and college public relations director. Novelist and short story writer. Freeholder: 50-acre farm with 130-year-old log house. Husband, father, grandfather. Retired teacher, coach, mentor. Vicious editor. Blogger.