I was outside alone walking downtown in the middle of the night. I could hear all the crickets chirping in the dark. I was just out with some friends and was on my way walking back home in the chilling Antarctic cold. I hated it, but for only one reason: there was no snow. It was the winter season, a season that brought pure, brute winds of bitter chill. As I walked down the street I could see small icicles forming on the walls and scaffolding of almost all the buildings I passed. It was raining a couple days ago and continued until yesterday. It was until the sudden cold front that the dampness developed icicles. It was about time it got this cold, there has never been a time that the thermometer in the car dropped below thirty degrees Fahrenheit and never been a time where it snowed. I hated it, absolutely hated it.