A two minute "contemplation" about how it feels to reach the summit of a mountain where the air is thin and you are very, very cold. Some days I have to scrape ice off of my car's windshield in the morning before work, so I can relate to this experience.

Desconfortante.

There's this article by The Onion that always comes back into the foreground of my mind after I express my love of the cold: "Four Homeless People Dead In What Girlfriend Refers To As 'Cuddle Weather'"

Even though I know very well that things would be no better if I hated the cold, I feel guilt.