As the freeze bears down, the action heats up.
The worst burn I’ve ever felt was from the coldest thing I ever touched.
The wind makes my head feel like its clamped in a vice, and my eyes leak tears,
Shooting straight into the setting sun burns my retina and sensitive camera gear.
I struggle blindly in pain for a beautiful, cold, blue silhouette,
But thanks to all of that ridiculous floof, a beach owl in flames is all that I get.
Back home, warm but defeated, I’ve time to enquire,
“Why on Earth would Maria set poor, baby Buckets on fire???11!!?”