Well, here it is, circa 1:00 a.m. out in the desolate Sandhills of Nebraska, midnight mountain time, and I went to the door, hoping to find the cats Abbie and Gustav waiting for me, anxious to come inside.
(In case I don't see them, there's a cat house on the porch, insulated from the wind and carpeted, even.)
Utter devastation, clear to the horizon, in all four directions.
The whole world, including the motor vehicle and the William Rivers Pitt, covered and indiscernible.
The nocturnally foul one here, who beeleeves in man-made climate change, has no idea.
I imagine that's how perceptions are formed, when one lives in a crowded congested blue state, and so can't see the weather among all the crowds, buildings, noise, light, and dirt.
But we out here in the middle of weather, know that mankind ain't nothing, compared with nature.