Props pile up on the mat. Hamstrings ache in forward bends. Backs do not bend as they used to. Opening the body requires a trust easily assumed in warmer weather, carefully negotiated in winter.

Boots are changed to ones lined with wool and thinsulate. Ones with deeply etched soles. Feet step gingerly on ice and proudly in deep snow, enjoying the crunch as innumerable crystals are crushed.

Shoulders constrict while driving. Prayers of thanks are said for the gifts of ABS brakes, all-wheel drive, and winter tires.

Scarves and hats and down coats disguise friends. You must look into their frost-rimmed eyes to know who they really are.

Blankets are worn around legs while sitting. Ginger honey tea is sipped to encourage an inner fire, to encourage a smooth sweetness as protection against the bitter wind outside.

Old houses gain new sounds. Floors speak with a different weight. Roofs crack in freezing and thawing cycles. The fans of furnaces and humidifiers obscure the sounds of neighbours in a hush of white noise.