Just above I-57 Bridge near Cairo, Illinois – November 13, 2012
A thick layer of frost covered my sleeping bag. It cracked apart as I moved to sit up and stare out at a world painted white with cold.
Fog hid the river a few feet away, ice caked upon every exposed bit of equipment, and freezing air hurt my eyes.
I lay back, pulled the sleeping bag over my head, and curled into a ball underneath the down. The sun would come, it would burn through the fog, it would melt the frost, it would free me from my little pocket of warmth, but until it did, I didn’t dare move.
I was as frozen as the rest of the world waiting to thaw.