My body can’t take this cold weather.

Saturday set the tone with scattered flurries and a high that barely reached the mid‑20s. The day never really warmed up, hovering around 24°F with overcast skies and humidity that clung to the air like a heavy coat. Light winds added just enough bite to make the cold feel sharper than the thermometer suggested.

Sunday kept the chill going. Snow showers drifted through the metro area, and the cold air deepened as a winter weather advisory took effect. By mid‑afternoon, temperatures sat in the low twenties, with wind chills dipping below zero. Even the brief breaks in cloud cover didn’t offer much relief.

By Monday, the storm had moved on, but the cold lingered. Morning temperatures hovered in the single digits, and although the sun finally returned, the air stayed crisp and unforgiving. It was the kind of day where the sunlight looks warm from indoors but feels like a trick the moment you step outside.

What stands out about this stretch isn’t just the numbers—it’s the mood. Streets were quieter. People moved a little faster between doorways. Seniors know cold, but this was the kind that settles in your bones and makes you appreciate every warm pocket of the city.

And now, as temperatures begin their slow climb back toward something more forgiving, there’s a small sense of triumph in the air. We made it through another deep freeze—together, layered up, caffeinated, and already swapping stories about just how cold it really was.