Winter has taken the weekend firmly in its grip.
The thermometer outside reads –6, and stepping into the open air, I feel no need to question its honesty. The cold is immediate, absolute, settling into skin and breath with quiet authority.

Today is meant for celebration, reflection, and resolution—a turning of pages, a resetting of intentions. While many nurse sore heads from late-night revelry, we step instead into a cold, damp morning that feels pure and honest. The sky is clear, the air sharp, and the world seems to have paused, as if holding its breath before beginning again.