It was very cold today and as I walked to my office I remembered the sound of crunchy snow at sub -15 C temperatures. It is loud, sharp and crisp. I walked, bundled up against the cold, big boots, long underwear, scarf across my face. The feeling of being wrapped in layers reminded me of the days in Wpg. when I would walk across the Osborne St bridge, even in a blizzard, to get to a 9:30 am dance class. I would get into the studio, strip off the layers, down to a leotard and tights and luxuriate in the extremes of lack of mobility during the outside walking to the full mobility of a warmed up dancing body. The memory is in my body and today, when I reached my office, I changed into a pair of sweats, pulled out my yoga mat and stretched for 15 minutes. It felt good and familiar, a distant memory of days and days of physical challenges so different from the mental challenges I engage in these days. I stopped doing yoga after a few minutes because I had work to do on the computer. Tonight, I am longing for the physical again. Here I am, at the computer…This is embodied knowledge, a way of knowing the weather, the experience of cold, through my memory of the winter dance.