Cold hardens the sound of the woodpecker knocking, bounces the cardinals song across the field, amplifies the screech from the gang of bluejays terrorizing the neighborhood, icy crunching hoofsteps out beyond the ice pile to find extra flakes of hay, vivid bluest sky in terribly clear dry air continuing the biting chill, deceiving light without any warmth except to saturate the few colors and deepen reflected shadows.

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