We are frozen in space. Not a drop or a drip anywhere. We are solid ice and snow. The small plows are struggling to open up the sidewalks but it is tough going. Dog owners have to walk their pets in the street. Some are walking three or four dogs at a time, trying to help out their neighbors. The rest of us are hiding out, making do, staying warm. The walkways between buildings are seeing good use. We can walk to French class, to watercolor painting, to garden club, to the hair salon, to our small market, to dinner. The pool and the fitness center are open, staffed by dedicated employees. We are not suffering. Our roads are plowed, our cars cleaned off, we are open for business. The mail arrives, packages, supplies for the market and restaurant, groceries for residents who have ordered them. And despite the cold, birds have been heard singing from underneath the porticoes. A sure sign that eventually, spring will return to New England.