It was this kind of frigid cold when we moved to Western North Carolina in 1985 from Baton Rouge, Louisiana. Lived in Waynesville in a most beautiful 2-story, 5-br farmhouse that was almost 100 years old. The upstairs was literally blocked off during the winter time. The owner, Ms. Beulah, had moved there in a horse drawn covered wagon when she was 13-years-old from a very, very remote area of Haywood County that is still mostly occupied by old-timers with surnames that go back for generations in those parts. We had a kerosene heater set up in the kitchen, cabinet doors slung wide open to keep the pipes from freezing. At some point, I walked in and saw a mouse sitting in front of it.
Of course this was long before the advent of cell phones with instant cameras, so I have only my memory to keep it real. But, that's enough for me. He was sitting on his hind legs and in the beautiful, soft glow of the kerosene light, it looked to me like he had his little front paws up, warming them just like anyone else who stands near an open fire when dealing with cold weather. Of course, I could be making that part up just because I like the image it makes. But I don't think so. Anyways .... he ran as soon as I got close enough to get a good look at him. Back to his mouse house, hidden somewhere far enough inside one of those cabinets that I certainly never saw him again. I did go grab my 35 mm camera just in case I caught him sitting fireside once again, but he never let me. Now that I think back, I sort of felt like I caught a forbidden glimpse of Santa Clause at the Christmas tree or something.
But no, it was just one God's children trying to keep warm.
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