Another snowy day and the sun in my eyes. The cold is a fiction that kills: beautiful, pure and pitiless. From a distance, from a photo, there is even a sense of warmth. Tonight, off to buy nappies for my baby, I walked out gloveless. There was no wind and, being otherwise suitably dressed, my body felt warm even. Less than five minutes later, my hands were in pain. Gloves on. Still, I love it. And nature, our environment, is the hand that sculpts us.