14 December 2009

"FELIZMENTE QUE A NOITE SAI,
AINDA BEM QUE HÁ NÉVOA POR AÍ,
ESTOU CONTENTE SE A LUZ SE ESVAI
E UMA SOMBRA INVADE ESTE LUGAR,
SIM, EU DECLARO MORTE AO SOL"




2ª Feira, 14 de Dezembro de 2009

Tempo frio, com céu pouco nublado ou limpo.
Vento em geral fraco (inferior a 20 km/h) de nordeste, soprando moderado (20 a 35 km/h) no litoral e temporariamente forte (35 a 45 km/h) nas terras altas. Formação de geada, em especial nas regiões do interior.


Temperaturas máximas previstas:

PORTO - 11ºC
LISBOA - 09ºC
FARO - 14ºC

(aqui)

Está quase no ponto. Menos 4 ou 5 graus, vento mais rijo, nevoeiro cerrado, uma nevezita, e era o ideal para, às dez para as onze da noite, ir fazer o último reabastecimento de SG Filtro, em mangas de camisa, com o frio a ferrar na pele.

(2009)

5 comments:

Anonymous said...
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Anonymous said...

We felt very nice and snug, the more so since it was so chilly out of doors; indeed out of bed-clothes too, seeing that there was no fire in the room. The more so, I say, because truly to enjoy bodily warmth, some small part of you must be cold, for there is no quality in this world that is not what it is merely by contrast. Nothing exists in itself. If you flatter yourself that you are all over comfortable, and have been so a long time, then you cannot be said to be comfortable any more. But if, like Queequeg and me in the bed, the tip of your nose or the crown of your head be slightly chilled, why then, indeed, in the general consciousness you feel most delightfully and unmistakably warm. For this reason a sleeping apartment should never be furnished with a fire, which is one of the luxurious discomforts of the rich. For the height of this sort of deliciousness is to have nothing but the blanket between you and your snugness and the cold of the outer air. Then there you lie like the one warm spark in the heart of an arctic crystal.

Moby Dick

João Lisboa said...

Estou completamente de acordo com esse senhor Moby Dick.

pennac said...

"...ir fazer o último reabastecimento de SG Filtro, em mangas de camisa, com o frio a ferrar na pele."

Ouve cá: não estarás a armar-te um bocadinho aos cágados, nem nada?
Sem casaquinho?

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