The Wind's Imperative

Yes, the thermometer offered the same
balmy reading as yesterday, just a tad
over freezing, though then the sun's
rays warmed the atmosphere and there
was a mere wisp of wind. No, there was
no reading that informed us a ferocious
intermittent wind whipped through the
forest as we set off into its confines
under a sky laden with pewter clouds
preparing to release another snowstorm.
No matter, thought we, well garbed for
the weather, new down-filled mittens
snugly encasing our hands in the
assurance that no bad-tempered day
would tamper with our quotidian venture.
The ice-tamped woodland trails no
challenge for our boots fortified with
cleats, on we forged through the familiar 
byways of the ravined forest. Up slopes 
and down again, crossing rough bridges 
gaining access across the ravine's
still-coursing waterway, the day opened
before us, the sight of snow-crusted trees
and the overwhelmingly white-and-black
landscape as bewitching as always. Then
the realization that the prevailing wind
was insidious and nasty, probing our
faces, assiduously searching vulnerable
spaces, discovering them in our steadily 
freezing digits. We laboured on against 
the wind even as the sun attempted and 
failed to impose its presence beyond 
the opaque screen shielding the world 
below from its vibrant light and comfort.