The stomach of the stove was begging for wood, so I went out about 8 this morning to get an armload. As I stacked split logs onto my left arm, the sun glinting off the snow beckoned me out for a walk.

I stoked the fire and girded up for a winter stroll in Saskatchewan.

You may wear ski pants. You may wrap a wool scarf around your neck. You may wear ear muffs and mittens, and boots with felt liners. Your coat may be a long mink number or a short downfilled jacket. You may even be smart enough to wear a tuque. But unless you’re a balaclava wearer, the wind will freeze the skin on your face anyway.