WITH AIR TEMPS DIPPING into the single digit subzero range and windchills at around minus 25 degrees on recent mornings in Minnesota, we’ve been in a bit of a cold snap. We’ll get a several-day respite of 30 degrees before temps plunge again, dipping to even colder early next week when an arctic front moves in.
All this cold got me thinking about ways to define a cold snap. It’s not only about the way it feels, but also how it sounds and looks, yes, looks.
Here’s how a cold snap feels: Like a slap on the cheeks. Biting, bitter, unbelievably cold. Exposed skin can freeze in 10-15 minutes.
The cold of a cold snap also feels like ice on bare feet during a night-time trip to the bathroom. But even before that, cold feels like I-don’t-want-to-get-out-of-bed-from-under-these-warm-covers-because-the-house-is-cold. Our thermostat is set at 62 degrees at night. Comfortable, except during a cold snap when outdoor air seems to infiltrate the indoors.
These are the days of layering, of pulling out the warmest flannel or fleece. I wear a tee, topped by a flannel shirt, topped by a sweatshirt or sweater. Randy has pulled out his heavy duty quilt-lined flannel shirt that visually widens his girth. Who cares about fashion? Not me. The goal is to stay warm.
In the evenings, with the thermostat set at 68 degrees, we find additional warmth under fleece throws or, whoever grabs it first, under an especially warm fleece-lined denim quilt. We opt not to crank up the heat in an effort to keep our energy bill down. Even with that, heating an old house with natural gas gets costly.
A cold snap feels like dry, itchy skin; aching joints; a parched throat. I’m drinking more water and tea. Water flowing from the tap first thing in the morning is ice cold. I’m cooking more soups and comfort foods like Chicken Wild Rice Soup and lasagna.
These deeply cold mornings, Randy warms the van before leaving for work. The sound of tires on the street past our house carries a sharpness and, if snow layers the pavement, tires crunch. Bitter cold holds a distinct, almost indescribable, sound.
Inside and outside, a cold snap is visible. I see it in the line of frost edging the bottoms of exterior doors. I pull a rag rug snug against the lower edge of the front door to block the draft. I see cold in the intricate frost patterns painted on bedroom windows upstairs.
And when I look outside from my relatively warm house, it simply looks cold, the sky clear, the bright sunshine only an illusion of warmth. For many Minnesotans, though, warmth is a reality as residents escape to warmer places like Arizona, Texas and Florida. Whether for a week, a month or the entire winter, these vacationers and snowbirds seek a break from the bitter cold and snow of a Minnesota winter.
I can’t help but think about those experiencing homelessness, including right here in Faribault. Where are these individuals living, sleeping? Surely not in the tents I’ve seen pitched along the river bottom. In the metro area, facilities are opening as warming centers. So, yeah, even though I’m not fond of this cold snap, at least I have a home.
© Copyright 2025 Audrey Kletscher Helbling
Minnesota Prairie Roots 
we are in that cold snap too and we hear with fire. Though I keep the thermostat at 62 in case it dips too low in the night. Farming is freezing work in these temps. Your blankets sound lovely for in the evening!
I like that, “we hear with fire.” You are correct that farming is freezing work in these temps. How well I remember working on the farm as a child during the coldest of winter days and evenings. Stay warm, dear C.
Though that was a great line, it was a typo – it should read we HEAT with fire. Sorry about that! And I am cold all the time now! Waiting for the thaw.
Both words work for me. I hope it warms soon for you. Warming up today in Minnesota.
Good descriptions of a cold snap. We were at a camping cabin…I’ll be blogging about that.
Good for you. I have yet to try one of those, but have always wanted to stay in a camper cabin. I look forward to your blog post.
You described a ‘cold snap’ perfectly. I’m cold all the time this time of year. We’ve thought about becoming snowbirds, but the cost and trying to choose a safe place to go is more work than we’re ready for. We may take a week to visit some relatives in Arizona, if schedules work out. I can hardly wait for spring thaw.
I hear ya. The older I grow, the less I like winter. Sigh. I hope you can make that AZ trip happen.
you’ve described this perfectly, using all of the senses. next week sounds like it will be our turn for an extreme cold snap, and like you, I am grateful for warmth and food and having a place to live. the city has opened extra warming centers and churches and the libraries are offering space as well. it really takes a whole city to make sure that all of its people are safe and warm. p.s. I love chicken wild rice soup too!
It sounds like your city is doing a lot for those in need of shelter. We have a few days respite from the cold before even colder temps move in next week.
” … single digit subzero range and windchills at around minus 25 degrees … ?” BRRRRR!
Here in Virginia I was whining today how cold it was with a daytime high of 31. And there you are looking forward to these temps as a respite from the bitter cold. I better stop complaining and pull out my recipe – Chicken Wild Rice Soup sounds great!
Thinking of you,
Julia
Sunny and warm (in the low 30s) here today!
You really described the cold well. The sounds conveys the bone chilling temps. Hope the temps warm soon.
Much warmer here today…in the low 30s and sunny.
The brightly colored blue sky’s are so deceiving and yes the cold temperatures have a distinct sound. The roof cracks & pops and the sound of someone walking on the snow is very unique to below zero temps
I knew you could relate to this cold weather post. Much warmer today, a welcome change. I feel for the people in in South who are not used to, or prepared, for cold and snow.