It was cold when we left Saint Louis for Florida on Wednesday, but it was scheduled to warm up in town while we were gone.  It was cold in Florida, at least by their standards.  Actually, there was some isolated frost there Thursday morning.  We relative northerners would scoff and joke about the amount of agitation about their cold snap.  Anyway it continued to warm as the rest of the week progressed and was in the seventies by takeoff time.

By the time I landed in Saint Louis the temperature here had fallen to 31 from Friday’s high of 44.  This morning’s low was only 10 and we are expecting a high on only 25.  I should have stayed in Florida.  You know, I seriously considered it, at least for this weekend.

I went biking today and got 15 miles.  It only got up to 19 today, at least by my sight.  I did make my sanity quotient, i.e. six other cyclists.  One of the bicyclists was a girl, about eight years old.  I saw Kubie out jogging.  I also saw an octogenarian out jogging.  It is not expected to be any warmer tomorrow then it was today and Anne and Kubie plan on riding the third weekend of Frost-Bike.

Now some may think that all my whining about cold weather is being just a bit too wimpy.  I’m thinking in particular of my more northern friends.  I can read a weather map as well as anyone.  To paraphrase Bike Snob NYC: 

Now, when I complain about the weather, some responses are just going to happen:

People in Upstate New York, Michigan and other obscure states feel compelled to point out how much worse their own weather is and proceed to tell apocryphal tales of being forced to scrape the ice off their frozen bike chains with their beards;

People in Florida, California, and other fantasy states feel compelled to point out how much more pleasant their weather is, which goes without saying because snowstorms cannot occur in a cultural vacuum;

I defer to the Upstate New Yorkers’ and Michiganders’ ability to withstand both severe cold and crushing boredom; and rest assured I am also duly jealous of the Californians (though less so of the Floridians).  Believe me, I’d move to California if I could.  Sadly, I’m hopelessly mired in mundanities here.  Also, I would hate to contaminate their fragile ecosystem with my toxicity.

The sand on the beach was just a little coarser than what I’m use to.  Mainly the sand seemed more loamy.  It was in the sixties when we were on the beach.  Too cold for most Flordinian.  The beach was really quite vacant.

Today’s header is a picture of one of the osprey we saw yesterday.  There was a pair circling the mangrove lined cove, where we saw them.  They would hover at a height of from 50 to 200 feet; then plunge after their fish prey feet first.  There was also a plaintive call from the mangroves, which we thought might be the circling pair’s chick.