Le flâneur :: The amazing disappearing cat heinie

This fine ginger fellow was proceeding along bd. Edgar Quinet.  He disdained my advances, and stationed himself in the doorway of the café Liberté.  He is by far the best thing about the place, which is a disgrace to the patrimoine.

Ice crystals at 37 K

For some reason, I am fascinated by the terms used to describe dangerous cold, especially cold made more intense by wind-chill.  Dire cold, bitter cold, these, well, freeze me in my tracks.  I had wondered whether there were actual levels for the words:  'dire' cold from -40 F to -50 F, or something like that.  A person exposed unprotected to these temperatures falls unconscious in seconds, perishes in minutes.  I've been trying to write poems about this that do more than say, it's cold and scary.  So far, I'm not satisfied.